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 Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
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.
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