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Are you asking me to spin a yarn again

I, old fisher of sky,  who can’t forget

To teach the ways of epics everlasting

Or in a tangled web do you seek lies?


Hijo
, listen

Your quest for the Holy Grail

Arc of the Covenant

Led us to war

Blood dried up in stoned old Guadalupe

Through each season

(Turn then turn)
I’ll spin a yarn or two from years

Of epics everlasting

Like when I was young

And full of tales unsung

I told the queens of high Olympus no

I wasn’t talking about you

I was talking about me

 

They’d all been counting scars like stitches

Blacking tattered innocence to make their mourning veils

I said

Olympic bitches never could tell art from tail

And they don’t get either

(Their gods being so after the daughters of man)
They challenged me to spin

Then stretched their own blank stares across a loom

Never knowing room as space to breathe

I laughed, sweet goddess please

Just shut up and weave

My webs went waving out in silk from deep inside

My good and bad together near enough to bridge the sun

I won

(Because they asked a man to choose)

Unchristian bride they dubbed me

And this were the cup of my blood

Intricate vulgarity

Licking every fingertip

That I, who ought to die

Could only turn

What had I made them – gods and men – believe

Blood dried up in stoned old Guadalupe

Look at me, all right?

I only weave

Maybe I’m domestic but

Through each season

Turn turn turn

I live in spaces they’re still scared to touch

Is it me or just my art that frightens them so much?

All along the rule has been to let me be

The way they do with demon-faced stones along rooftops

Twice the awe and half the love as

That quest for the Holy Grail

Listen, hijo

There’s no such thing as an extraordinary pig

I never touched a dictionary for that tailored note

But there’s a tangled web

(The farmer missed my air quotes)

Good enough to save the runt

And bless me forever with martyrdom
People never like you for the things you wish they would

And that is the cup of my blood

Blood dried up in stoned old Guadalupe

I could tell you the secrets that put it there but

You, the while you tried to save our girls the terror of a bleary-eyed reflection

Took the mirrors out of houses and banned sarcastic prayer

Bloody Mary

Bloody Mary

The men who peeked into the arc were strictly ripped to shreds

I imagine our principle’s the same
Yes I know

You want the war

You want a force to lead to victory

To glory and on

To the years of epics everlasting

But all my hands are tied

(By yarns and yarns and yarns)
Blame Da Vinci or Brown if you’re so inclined but

Did it really take so long for knights to turn from cup to woman?

Arc in the apocalypse

Set apart from there the woman meant to bear

By the space of a chapter heading

This is the cup of my blood

The blood of the new and everlasting covenant

That will be shed for you and for all that sins may be forgiven

Do this in memory

The grail was not for sharing

Jesus knew

Who prayed as he felt the goblet approach

(That it might be taken away)

Jealously crusaders tore through desert lands

Shaking with fury at the thought of farmers’ lips dipping over some golden rim

They’d all gone to pieces before I let it slip

No vessel but the sealed kind, anyway, were left in sands

 

Flawless, Fragile, Closed

Give up?

I’m out of hints

You’ve all been looking for an hourglass

Soon there were strings and wires to bind the bulging shape of human breath and

In times of receding glory

The fashion became that

All of your women stand on our hands

(No, that’s not exactly what I meant)

 

They thought I left

All tangled up in what they’d spun

But I won’t leave a story till it’s done

And this is the cup of our blood

Blood dried up in stoned old

Holy Mary

Heiress of Guadalupe

Usurper of Eve

Touchless she’ll conceive

Unopened to deliver

Who holds the blood to feed to life again

Who among us have the seasons

Turned then turned

 

Oh breathe

My haunted daughter

Risen son

Breathe

While I untangle one more one

 

Remember your damned in every web

We from whom the moon drew

Blood began the thought of calendars

And whore from hora

She who marks the night

Bright priestess

Scolded and cast away like

Bloody Mary

 

Bloody Mary

Shove your witches into lakes

We’ll live; we skate

We never have been punished but for what we’ve done the best

I don’t wait my turn

And I don’t turn – I spin

When push comes to shove you better know I bite

I ate your father’s head just the other night

(I’m not always the touchy-feely type)

 

Sitting naked in my snare

Bright stained in shape familiar I was

Fragile, flawless, closed

Packing poison in a shell hell-marked

As all your strange war’s bombs

 

I won’t work for anyone I hate

Nor do I date (chomp, chomp)

Lure victims in with not a promise but to bleed

 

Bloody Mary

 

If any girl could look with twice the love and half the awe

Now maybe things would change

 

Bloody Mary

 

It wasn’t ugliness that made her mirror smash

But still, bad luck to spider glass

 

Bloody Mary

 

All done in memory, poor lass

To see forever now her face

Through webbing fracture veins