Fucking things could barely kill a dog, but the scientists had acted like Spetsnaz strapping them on their thighs. Three hard men ready for the mission, yes? No. And here Yuri thought this would be over before supper.
Patrick Todoroff, A Prayer to Saint Strelok: a tale from the Exclusion Zone [Amazon]
These, dear girl, are for you. They form this pleasant book. Now strip yourself and get a candle; lunge in front of a looking-glass and read and frig alternately. If you are grown up, a dog or a man to suck you saves labour—of any sort—and time. But I want you to swim in a perfect ocean of fuck as you read—and please God if we ever meet—what ho!
Aleister Crowley, Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden, Prologue
Eat it, you sow!
I’m your dog, fuck, shit!
Swallow it now!
Rest for a bit!
Satan, you gave
A crown to a slave.
Aleister Crowley, Leah Sublime
LII
I make pure the temple and clear out the fog
For God will not come to live in a dog!
As I purge myself from the base and common,
I raise up the cup and adore Babalon!
— In Nomine Babalon: 156 Adorations to the Scarlet Goddess
The Hermetic Library arts and letters pool is a project to publish poetry, prose and art that is inspired by or manifests the Western Esoteric Tradition. If you would like to submit your work for consideration as part of the Arts and Letters pool, contact the librarian.