The lonely moon demands a sacrifice.Continue reading
On the moon, we start again.Continue reading
The Hight Priest of Saturn tends to his parish –
you didn’t expect to find him here
hidden in this Rust Belt town
a town eager for rebirth
a town that’s lost its youth
who’ve fled the flaking steel mills that die
on the banks of the purple river –
The High Priest of Saturn expects a successor
someone to continue the cleansing
the vicarious pleasure of standing
before Saturn, our merciful Maker.
(Photo from sciencenewsforstudents.org)
Note: This poem was inspired by High Priest of Saturn, a musical group self-described as in the psychedelic doom genre. I’ve been listening to more groups like them lately, so I guess the cool band name was caught in my head!