(09/27/1941) The Metrognome

The Metrognome*
Once, when traveling, I came
Upon a shrine of primal shame
Now desolate and lost in sump;
Sitting me upon the stump
Of the tree of life I thought
Back upon the knowledge sought
By Eve, when she was in her prime,
Slither tracks across the slime
March by a bore, the earthworm’s door,
Where lay a molding apple core.

Humming faintly to a rune,
Some call it dun, some call it dune,
While munching steaks of Devon shark
I chipped the log of Noah’s Ark
Until I came to where it said
wish that I had never read
Those books that Daddy used to keep
Well locked within the ocean deep.”
By which I knew, it must be true,
The hair of Davy Jones is blue.

Materializing where he stood
Above a pot of rancid blood
A friendly ghoulie took a seat,
And pounded it beneath his feet
To see if it would break in two;
It did, and so he found a new
One. “Good Morning,” said he, “Mister,
Who was that you were with yester
Day night.” On clicked my nimbus bright
And I reached out to take a bite.

Addressing half the varied throng,
I told the tail I tell; “Too long,
Mr Fiends, said I with much delight,
time has come, the time is right”
And left they marched along the shore
In search of that which went before
While aft the bow was going down
To where most things of that sort drown
Their troubles here in, “Thanks old deer,
If you are thirsty, there’s the bier.”

— Grady L. McMurtry
9/27/41 e.v.

* One what keeps time, literally. —- 777

Note: Originally published in Thelema Lodge Calendar, January 1993.