"nyd byþ nearu on breostan; weorþeþ hi þeah oft niþa bearnumto helpe and to hæle gehwæþre,gif hi his hlystaþ æror."

23 August 2010

newgrange

newgrange



i'm made of magic
and moonbeams. i'm a
night-blooming gladiolus,
moth-fucked and born of
funeral rot.

my story was drained
out of screaming virgins,
hacked to pieces at the dawn
of time on bone-hewed
altar stones.

the blood dripped in
swastika spirals
and was sucked up by the
lunatic irish
clay on the longest
night of the year.