Thus is my litany; the sorcerer Ophiuchus intones upon a hill from whence comes the procession of black ravens. In undulating Saturnalia I am born. In subterrene gulfs of limitless expanse I draw my breaths. All meandering paths ameliorate steadfast absorption into the all-cosm, division = multiplication the insoluble paradox the ouroboros lotus blossom. A thousand deaths. Walpurgis coven of sword bearing nymphs, Fist deep in the monkey trap I reach for the apple. Serpents coil, my Sol and Luna in coitus, with wicked mirth they anoint the corpus. Iron embers and ashes, a cloak of demonic gladness exhume my brain from the leaden labyrinth. Eyes on the lapis, eat the last fragments; The Sphinx thus laughs. Wrist deep in the Devilish Monkey Trap I free myself at last with the sacred image of the chloroplast— In the vessel I nourish myself with flames until at last, lounging languidly as an iguana I feast upon the ashen grapes of my liberated self; a golden prince basking in mercurial wine.