O Aion Bold, Aion Bright, encircle me tonight
in a bed of stars I will be the Cosmic Egg, you
lion yolk gold shouldering the yoke of time! Arial
comes to me in fever-bright dreams, wings of eagle,
head of fangs, wild golden Aion, and he shows me
Big Bang to Big Crunch, aboard an abduction vessel
like in my sicksweet childhood I would frolic on
under my alien’s watchful eye: “My love, together
we will build a new Aion and watch the rise and fall
of time. The Aeon of the lion-faced serpent approaches.”
And Zoroaster birthed Ahriman into the void, and Mithras
slew the moon bull at the heart of the clock, gravity
is only applicable if I say it is law, and spooky
entanglement means when you dance galaxies away from me,
Aion, my heart roars, and sashays in turn, like the Queen
of Sweet Sheba on a floor of mirrors for King Solomon.
Look below Sheba’s waist, and she is Lilith enflamed.
O Aion, O Ariel, O Bringer of Strife and Old Age.
My lion, my snake, my pridely king. You cradle me in
somnambulent splendorous arms and I am lifted high.
Will our daughter be your scion? My breasts are heavy
with milk, and my hips are swelling like a rose blossom.
Gia awaits, that clang of the shy cymbal gypsy dancer.
There is not much new in our story, I do not think:
Girl holds Lion’s jaws back and saves the world.
Iphigenia throws herself onto the rocks to save Greece.
Cassandra ends up with Apollo in the end, my Plague.
Names in your rolodex, leonthropic gods. Silver platter
of the lion’s feast, and we are trapped in Death’s
hourglass. Aion, Aion, Aion! Smile upon my suffering.
Aion, Aion, Aion, I am running