Den of Snakes
Salammbô
Boil in the vats of stone the gold
Pour it over them pour
Over their gazes of avarice
Melt the eyes
Melt them through
Slosh the skulls
And when they cool crack open the bowls of ore
To make the snakes cackle
Make them lean back
Jaws hinged on the sky
Maiden in the snake-pile make them laugh
Clothed in smoke-coils
And sumptuous jealousies of velvet
Drop it away
Without shield of silk or leather
Without a king
Without even a skeleton—
All softness of the world holds you up
Naked in the halls of Dis
Drinking the fumes
Which smolder in the cobra’s jaws
The men ride in
Waving their weapons of sharpened bronze
Echoes clattering the halls
Feeding time
Come in close
Close in on her eyes
White as bone so white there is nothing anymore
Only white forever
The spears go soft in their grips
The tremors rise up
Turn on them turn
Sprout fangs and coiling
Spring back hissing open on the jugulars
And gouged through make them fall
Clasping to their necks their hands
This one’s throat spurts its final laugh of blood
Stand over it listen
Listen to the body sputtering its laughter
Around her collapsed soldiers gurgle and die
Her palace is gold shimmering in puddles of crimson
No king
Not a king never a crown never
A shame garment
No curtain of velvet to hide the command
That forth from her pours its vicious rivulets of gold
Into the night of men’s wars and men’s desire
Carving for itself
A den of snakes