They hatch cockatrice' eggs,
and weave the spider's web:
he that eateth of their eggs dieth,
and that which is crushed
breaketh out into a viper.
— Isaiah 59:5 (KJV)
Knotty truth to be firmly grasped sometimes
Calls on language Shakespearean, 1611
Sounds right when we utter syllables time-strained,
Reality caught
In the spaces of our cleverly woven
Linguistic web. The translators for good
King James saw words as more than handy software
Aptly to employ.
Even the best of intentions are too apt
To bite us in the ass like Cleopatra's
Asp which we think to crush in vitro under
Cobwebby boot heels
Not calculating additional adders
In the eggshell unleashed, wrapping and snapping
Consequential consequences intended
Never not at all.
Who ever thought that sowing such thoughts so small
Would amount to cloud seeding spiders and snakes?
Not me nor the people who raised me from dust
Knew what serpents eat.
