Elegy for Arthur Evans

Arthur Evans, 1942 - 2011, author of 'The God of Ecstasy' and 'Witchcraft and the Gay Counterculture', gay activist, and scholar.

Arthur Evans, Radical Faery, English'd lyric-lover of Euripides, fallen bard! Alas, the last days of Castro's gadfly-stinging praise-bestower! Bold bestowing scrolls of yellowed scratch their spell-endowing grimoire-might, to sight the air-enfleeing maids of broom-shaft swift, the midnight's minions, man to man in maidens' liv'ry long-enchanting kisses on the incantated winds! O horned and holy linen-of-the-lass enwraptured gasp divine in sips of wine enswooning sage! O age of flowered love-restored that flaming folk might kiss with whistful bliss again! Hail hero of the horned and Pentheus-enflaming freedom-lord! Alas!

May he sip champagne with the vine-entwined, dressed-in-petals patron of the over-ripe grape, giddy salon-sache'ing in beneath-the-feet caverned colonnade-halled lyceums, soothed by Socrates' lashing, long-enspirited tongue! Let wreathe the still-singing feathered flock of morn about his now-boa'd neck with soft and wind-tossed tufted garland! And welcomed, warm, with brim on lips of purple bubbled goblet-on-the-gold in gilded etch of hex's sweet hexameters, singing home beneath the waters, home adored beneath the sands and soil, where the sons of sons of heroes gather and converse, and there partake the honey-harvest lip-dipped luscious of their full communion. Boons! The earth hath husk, but deep beneath, a grain hath sprouted! Seek, O sprout, thy underworlded sun and let thy song, unfolded, echo wide in wishful plains, where fragrance air becomes, and meadows waves of torch's tribes on bended stalk enmock with reverent kiss the passing wheels of fire's escort! Held, within the hollow, hall engnarled root and vine, beneath the hallowed, arms-are-limbs of stellar-spiralled foilage trunk of old! Behold and hold thy limbs-of-Laerad cradled wisdom! And take rest with ribald, dithyramb-strumming spiral-dancers, rose and morning-glory mazes strolling, lilt and skip with hands entwined like tendriled limbs of Dionysos! Frith, and fullness of the bursting, lavender-fermented fruit be thine!