Notes from New Sodom

... rantings, ravings and ramblings of strange fiction writer, THE.... Sodomite Hal Duncan!!

Friday, July 24, 2009

The Lucifer Cantos 6/13


A polished apple, skin and core
pristine, Uroburos’s gift to whore,

green, gold or red forbidden fruit,
peeled to the crunch of chomp, sucked deep

to taste sensation, sin so sharp, so true,
turns worm in us as stomachs churn. A new

life starts and ends each summer’s day for me,
python and hustler yearning, Death, for thee.


Outside now, sandstone tenements of night
are shaped in drapes of Rembrandt's candlelight.

A distant toll resounds, a titan’s tone
born in a bell tower, sonorous in stone,

as echoes, round a temple’s vaulted dome,
of droning rote recited from a tome

to tell the trundle of our times from womb to tomb:
All doomed, it murmurs, all are doomed. doomed. doom.



Blogger Colin Meier said...

I'm really enjoying this poem, Hal. Dark, smart and moody. (I'd say, "like my tea", but my skills at analogy obviously need some work...)

"Murmers" in the last that spelled incorrectly or is it an allusion I'm not getting?

9:38 am  
Blogger Hal Duncan said...

Ooh, well spotted that man! One of my strangely habitual brain-farts of spelling.

3:15 pm  

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