Canticle of Iron

by Florian Elwood
Canticle of Iron

Between the sunless sky and adder wound
about your gut like double-bound Laocoön,
anoint yourself with chalk and grip the knurl,
to heave and crack, to resurrect the beast,
leviathan, with rack on rack of scale;
ascendant from the deep, all writhing chords
and nameless energies devolving in-
to prehistoric murder, be! A thing
which siphons order from the void the way
we draw the marrow from the bone;
our arrows barbed against the sexless machine,
our blood-black teeth, our endless sunlit dreams.

You can follow Florian Elwood on Twitter at @ElwoodFlorian.