Forked Tongues Redeployed… Poem by Mark Heathcote

What is the need for life? Now death
Is the serpent contained in your breath?

The kiss of the world is a forked tongue
Is it not? 'Quench full your heart till its rung.'

Let it be so coiled-up it devours oneself.
Release your inner demons, skin yourself.

Peel back those doubting layers of torment
Uncoil self-aware out of every malcontent.

Grow silver-haired memories of despair
Now allow them to wither, make their lair.

What do you care, in these golden days?
If a serpent finds no warmth as it lays.

If it has crawled under a desert rock
Let it thirst cold until it has taken stock.

What is energy? What is all this matter?
Why can't neither one be simply the latter?

Answer-is - they can't be destroyed?
Both contain forked tongues, redeployed.