The Green River thiasos
had come together
to hold a Samhain dumb supper
for the Dionysian Dead
and afterwards,
an Orphic Egg Hunt
in Bakcheiadoros’ backyard.
Not only did each one have
a special oracular message
attached to it with red thread,
but you had to take a shot of
mead,
pomegranate liqueur,
or black sambuca,
depending on the color of your egg,
each and every time you found one,
or you were out of the game.
Once all the eggs had been recovered
they were placed in a wicker basket
and presented as trophy to Zagreus
and to his Furious Host.
Whoever collected the most
got to lead the next ritual,
and once they were back inside
they proceeded to interpret the oracles
each had received.
Angela got eleven, so was declared
the undisputed winner
(suitably, since they would next gather
on Saint Martin’s Day)
and this is what the Head of Orpheus told her:
As the year completed its circling course
Seven fair daughters and seven kingly sons
Drunk with the works of loud-murmuring bees
Yearning to be set free from their lawless ancestry
The genitals fell down into the sea
From water comes earth, and from earth water again
Plying the loom, an unfinished toil, flowery
Taking the brazen cymbals and tympanon of goat hide
Mother, highest of the Gods
Set free from grievous pain and endless sting of frenzy
All things one and each one separate
It didn’t make any sense at the time,
but later, it made far too much.
