I

Tonight, we bear witness to Rapture.
Alchemy, religion of moonlight.

For the first dance, I shall embody the words of Jim Morrison. Stand on the great stage and pick at the bones of An American Prayer.

Take out your Bible and burn your songs, for the notes are incanted. Incubated in a window of fire where Gods awaken the flame.

A voodoo of angels. Decomposing flowers of sex and life.

Watch.

One man plays the blues like it’s the last night of his life. Lost in a fog of liquor and booze. He says “hey man, where are you sneaking off to?”.

I am a priest in a silent prayer worshipping at the temple of anima. Transfixed in a haze of music and madness.

II

This is not Texas radio.
This is not the Big Beat.
This is a small town.

A gasolined mess of shadows fighting for life. Ruptured. Illuminated.

This is my tribe of men and women adorning a cave. Animated scriptures piercing stars.

She is a painted monster wrestling death. Enchantress. Muse of the forest dancing to the beat of the ancient ones. Tonight, we embody the ghosts and become life.

I am Shaman dissolving the night.

We have seen the streets. Lived it’s sorcery of mechanical dreams. A homeless charade of souls combusting in a fusion of atom and despair.

This is not Texas Radio.

This is not the Big Beat.

This is a small town.

III

A Lord’s vision of Hell where songbirds sing of death.

We are sleeping dogs lost on a soma of spirit.

Watch.

The town is burning.

Can you hear the ancient drums rising with the moon? Clouds moving like thunder? Divine moments driven by the Gods? Worshipped by men?

I am a monk looking for a moon! You are Eos, Goddess of the Dawn! Soon the chariot shall steal our light.

We are the lost.

The wolves are at the door, salivating. Snarling their own magic.

One is smoking crack. It’s white embers chasing away his soul.

Watch.

His eyes are vanishing like birds falling from trees. Wingless beasts burning in a vision of madness. Shiva is screaming death.

I am afraid.

Darkness is tearing light from his eyes.

IV

Do you believe in astrology?
The hell-bound fuckery of nature?
The atomic infernos of death?
The great copulations of light?

I know who witched the Burning Man.
Who set the world in motion tending creation - dark perversions of alchemy scattered on the high plains.

American grifters selling snake-oil while the world burns.

Listen.

Do you hear the city creaking in it’s own dirt? An orgy of lowlife’s turning tricks? Empty vessels cursed on a riot of black dawns?

Mercury is rising on a dead planet.

Witness the day!

The last revolution of the sun.
The last photon fired from her shores.

Witness the night!

The eternal decay of tormented men - martyred at the alters of their future. Burning pyres of violence and fornicated sin.

For the Gods of War shall come while the world sleeps.