From Behind the Green Door

Beyond the gory mountains
And the Valley of the Kings
Lies the state of Horus,
Which to us has a graveyard ring.
It is where the debris of totem poles
Musters in a surreal rule
And where the designer of everything
Exhibits his will to rule.

Some faces creep out of the woodwork,
Eyes bright, or with a laconic stare
That matches a pure green mask of passion
That sucks you in for your harrowing share.