The Supplicant

At noon when the white darkness prevails
I penetrate her on quantum lawns of probable yearning

lightning strikes us again and again but fuck Zeus
our tantric Frankenstein portends a subtler dialectic

and pusillanimous sky-gods can kiss my momentary arse
heaven’s vault, the sublime effulgence- all balls

what rhapsodies remain, sing them for the turgid-
the incomplete, the camp, the gristle no monk can stomach

I defy the fiercest aghori not to shriek hysterically
as I leap, soundless and invisible, from birth to death

like Robin Hood in the void, robbing nothing to give to
nothing- let the macho ringmasters of non-attachment

crack their saffron whips, it will avail them nothing
no wisdom-tradition, oral or scriptural, recorded this

anima mundi flickers on oblivious, like a silent film
no psychology can ever be transpersonal enough to scale

the Everests of impotence I conjure this afternoon
as history converges at ambition’s vacuum:

hear me roaring porno commands- I’m the hairfather
for whom left brain bums right at some Moulin Rouge of the skull

I’m Gerard de Nerval perambulating the lobster
I’m a blue-lipped baboon fondling its cock at the zoo

I’m Yoko Ono when Yoko Ono is asleep
I’m Microsoft Word and a bag of marijuana

the missing link between Alfred Jarry and Jade Goody
it’s me I’m afraid so desist in your empire-building

put the prayer-beads aside, try to ignore them
then stamp on them furiously like a child denied magic

spend your life proselytising about the passage of time
form a weird uroboros and annoy God

become softer and softer until years melt through you
redrawing your borders according to unspeakable treaties

brutal iridescence that howls through my being
sexless she-virus I fecundate by dying

oh darling bend your puppet and cripple him firmly
into the now- so deep he knows only asphyxiation


Jon Hellier

Image: Untitled by Tom McKee (c.2002) available from Henry Boxer.