Highway Six Six Six
© Surazeus
2025 11 07

If the second mother even returns
from gathering flowers by the highway
that bloom from the corpse of the seventh son,
she might find the last telephone on Earth
on the broken desk in the empty room
where the ram goes to escape sacrifice.

After the minister of finance faints
from loyal despair of the star-blind seer,
the leprous king who wears the golden mask
might stare in shock at Sibyl in her cage
whose riddles prophesy his sudden fall
from heart-twisting scream of the butterfly.

Because ten thousand airplanes in the sky
bounce lost in swirling fog of arrogance
that billows from huge factories of greed,
three angels with last message for mankind
might hang out in the highway bar instead
and throw beer bottles at Phoebus on stage.

Still strutting out on Highway Six Six Six
after defeating Anubis at chess,
Orpheus might remember where he left
the broken lyre of Mercury he stole
which I have hidden underneath my bed
to prevent the thirteenth apocalypse.

Enchanted by the heart-reviving hex
Minerva casts on me with wicked words
that cause apple trees to writhe in my shape,
I might ride my white horse of innocence
to fight four horseman of holy crusades
who try to burn my castle to the ground.

Though primal cause of creation flares forth
from dreamless God-Eye of the universe
that formulates organic life on globes,
Apollo teaches children how to count
with numbers al-Khwarizmi diagrammed
to imitate snakes in the Tree of Life.

Forever favored by the Tree of Knowledge,
registered in Book of Nature by Death,
I might climb highest mountain in the world
to eat dream monster crawling in my heart
so I can find the Diamond Eye of Fate
that gleams on Tower of Babel at dawn.

Startled by gold shadow of Azrael
that flickers on wall of my living room,
I might call angels driving without hands
who throw violins at the purple sky
that drips blood of bells on our fractured skulls
while we drive home on Highway Six Six Six.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/11/…

Orpheus joins Phoebus and Azrael for supper at the fancy Italian restaurant that overlooks the River Styx where hundreds of ferries full of people who have died from starvation or war are stuck behind the freighter.

#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism