A poem inspired by the painting, ‘The Alchemist’s Kitchen’ by Leonora Carrington.
In the Alchemist’s Kitchen
Her charged table attracts seekers toward it like a magnet pulling in iron bars. Beast-headed beings, they stand, linked by fingertips, around the lodestone’s veiled field.
Unlike the king whose corrosive touch burnt water to bullion, gold is not their goal.
This séance comes together to reverse polarities. Positioned as compass points, they drink charmed solutions from crystal goblets.
As the bewitched air transmutes to a quicksilver rose, whispering its melting secrets, the conversion is activated and these omnidirectional forces conjure up a spirit ovum.
They place this ghost-egg in parenthesis where, the words of an incantation, fluxes of winged insects, flutter about its gleaming shell.
They do not know what horror they’ve unleashed. This voodoo seed is a booby-trap! Countdown commences. As the timer’s decisive zeroes click up, the pseudoscientists scream.
Flesh melts. Bones…
Ver o post original 149 mais palavras