Cult Of The Coiled Spine

There’s a dull ache at my back
A slack caduceus straining
The groaning axis of the world

The unexplained vexations
Angst and hallucinations,
The burdens of surrendered souls

Huddled at the base we shiver
Milk-sop sodden infants
Held in formless suspension

Sexless globules shudder
Palm sweat and quickened breaths
Under the boot and ecstatic

They say their prayers

Hogtied in a shriveled
State of umbilical bondage
Of lifelong toil and endless wandering

Cradled in the caul fat
Crisp and a stinking net of lace
Sugar coated skeletons of mesentery

The shell is hollow
And the being is sick
Restless in the dark night of its dormant dreams

We’ll go in through the nose,
Scrape away the grey mass,
Pipe out the froth, intestines, ancestral scum.

Gotterdammerung reality
Where death is a consolation
The good serf's weltanschauung
And the sleeper's philosophy

Wandering among the growing ruin
Teetering on a mountain of skulls
All eyes fixed on false stars surrounding
While above, the black hole gazes on

Feel the fear and receive this blessing
The sacrament of the black hole gods
To be a ghost in the land of the living
With no way out and no place called home.

Live free or wither
With the cult of the coiled spine
Live free or wither
Serpent arisen
From the world that it sheds behind
Serpent arisen