Son of Saturn

When moonlight supersedes
the sun in the slanted rain
the crippled stag will come
to the black garden & Saturn's
son shall preside over all.

When blue tears fall
in the river, I will remember
me, erstwhile spelunker
with a captive magnet.
Breathless & stork-hunted,

shambling to repose
beneath the laurel tree,
stranger in a land
of stronger currents,
I will bathe myself

in the shadow of this
most majestic fountain.
Even the emu
waits at water’s edge.
Let him.  When

the time is
nigh, I shall take my place
before my father’s altar,
make a great display
of hacking off my long

black mane, knotting
my locks along his long black
blade, biting the ripest
of apples between
my teeth &

biting down even
harder until all I see are fields
filled with poppies,
all I hear is the whistling
of wind along the waters.

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