From St. John the apostle,
that lucid dreamer, old man.
Seven stars and seven lights and seven churches.
Inked upon papyrus,
the last breath of an apocalypse.
Flame and fire come at last.
I saw seven snarling dragons, golden chimeras of man, beast, and magic --
those rough beasts in Bethlehem whose hour comes at last.
And you, golden dog, smelling of copper in a bath of blood.