The haruspex has faded
In this too changed world;
What sacrifices can be made
Untainted by chemical additives,
Impurities of air & water & soul?
Auguries become damaged things,
Visions pale reflections foolish as
Those who believe the stars waste
Time foretelling our destinies.
But blood should matter -- and so
The ritual, the knife, & the animals:
Only entrails, only entrails, only entrails.
And the longing for an older world --
Mourning the dying of another art.
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