Montana

The word 'immaculate'.

I dreamt of Montana,

For, in the passing fields

of gold and green

Upon the enchanted highway,

By way of North Dakota

I stood

 

My soul crept from beneath,

Souring but a mountainous eye to the sky

And through this eye I leapt

with

Sudden munitions of power,

Carried by the dead,

born

By the birds that held dearly to their line

A crowing multitude,

And to such a vantage that I now beheld

A crown of immaculate gold

Storm     
tarrying streaks as if stakes

Through the low sky ceiling of shifting Cobalt,

 

By and By, to this row I knew

That beyond the rushing fields,

within the vale

Lay the impartial throne of God,

Fire as coals upon this

vast

And dethroning land, the reign of rebellion

Showing its vestige, 

For the Lord is leviathan, swallowing

Whole

The children of pride

 

Reviews

[Juliette Cross]

one time i dreamt of a piece of land. just a square and it was dead. and a power line leading to nowhere in particular. i saw a bird drowning in no water. but then that was north and i was already south. sometimes there is no going back. this reminded me of that in another universe, or from another time, like looking in a mirror and squinting and trying to hold yourself upside down.

[Val Val]

I had forgotten how much I like you.

I am having a no-duh moment.

[Steven]

Very interesting stuff, man. Nice imagery. The idea of uniting the old Devil Leviathan as God Himself, showing the two as never seperate, but always one being, is so completely heretical and fantastic.