Miriam Brummer, Kingdom, media not set, 8.75 × 23.75 inches. Courtesy of the artist and Pierogi Flat Files.
The Alchemist’s Prima Treatise
Sure, death blackens the crow. Burn the earth
long enough, however, gold will burst forth
&the snow, forever squalling, will no longer be
a verified edition of grief. For now, Apollo’s Bird of
Paradise shit-smears your family’s coat
of arms, & your legs, hitherto intact, burst
into rivers the stillborn drift in sad, long circles.
It’s a shadowy borderline, astrology & the dead
you watch pyramided in the town square.
The cathedral bell tolls like it has
an extra appendage. Christ becomes
a hieroglyph, a tombstone’s rejected epitaph.