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THE ZOMBIE BAPHOMET

         I am in the Temple of Christ of Pomar, Portugal, from the Order of the Temple, Knights Templar Zombies, after having an erection after chasing with my lustful look at Margarita of Burgundy and Blanca de Burgundy, also zombies, who had just confessed to the Bishop of Pamiers her sin of adultery with the Aunay brothers, very beautiful.

          I turned my gaze to a low-relief image of a crosshead, in which Baphomet with three faces appeared, who confessed to me that, as Clement V could not benefit from Jacques de Molay, Grand Master, sent the inquisitors of King Philip IV the Beautiful, to punish the Templars and steal all their wealth and property, inventing gossip like: “if the Temple was Sodom and Gomorrah, where they eat the children , removing the butter before, at his donkey party; and they don't invite us. ”

         Ambition and its desire for power makes kings, bishops and popes, much later than dictators who have been in the world, a true hodgepodge between beasts and holy murderers, sending their inquisitors and minions or praetorian and repressive guard to take his enemies with this ordinance:

-For the eternal God, go, get them and cover them; Let none escape.

         Baphofomet took a break to breathe and cough, throwing red spits of good seeing.

         Then he continued:

-Celius, the worst thing is that you are all children of such barbarians, not like me, that I am the son of that Jove, great lord of Heaven, who wants to snatch your crown and scepter from your God, and want to have sex with angels and cherubs , that God cut my wings, throwing me on Earth with only one company: the Serpent daughter of Saturn, and the Golden Ass of Apuleyo.

         The legitimacy of inheriting the crowns and the scepters is in theft and death given everything upside down.

         That it happened to the lovers of Burgundy, skinned alive, their genitals cut and thrown to the dogs, beheaded; their bodies dragged and hung by the armpits to the gallows.

 

         The lovers suffered their own leaving them pelones and, taking them to cells in towers where they were strangled to be later raped underground.

         Such cruelty was given to the Communors of Castile, Rafael del Riego and Flórez, and to so many others whose bodies were thrown into wolves opened to the winds by the Holy Crusade for food of wolves and birds of prey.

         The good thing about Destiny is that the tombs of these criminal kings and felons, popes and wild bishops, pedophiles and puteros, and dwarf caesars with donkey ears and murderous eyes, were and will be desecrated by drunken zombies your children and mine, ours, who come to have sex on the graves of silence in monasteries and cemeteries.

         I am Baphomet. Suck my tail, Celius. Let your talent so shine. That, after all, I achieved much more love from the People and their people than God believed.

© Daniel de Culla

 

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Daniel de Culla is a writer, poet and photographer. He is a member of the Spanish Writers Association, Earthly Writers International Caucus, Poets of the World, (IA) International Authors, Surrealism Art, and other groups. He is director of the Gallo Tricolor Review and the Robespierre Review. He has participated in many festivals of poetry and of theater in Madrid, Burgos, Berlin, Minden, Hannover and Geneva.  He has exhibited in many galleries including Madrid, Burgos, London and Amsterdam. He moves between North Hollywood, Madrid and Burgos; e-mail: gallotricolor@yahoo.com