Spell for the Witch’s Hammer
a two pronged sword
 to put them down
 out there a lot of things happen
 witches
 undo   each other     a candle in each opening
     witches wake at night and cry
     beasts with curly horns comfort them
     / suck gently
 witches go astray
 carnality     swooping and fluttering    like a ragged flag
 they      laugh    so much
 covered in purple bruises
 teaching    tricks        GPS of the  eternal flagellant light      always going home
 the witch’s hammer  sinks into flesh
 then      disappears     and only mercury remains     its little peasant trail
         the witches eat your book
         then you
         then everything
Spell for UN Resolutions
        the sun comes
 they are lying there on the frayed grass
       some warm arms and legs
 there is only a particular smell in them
       small occult fire
 when the libraries were burning down everyone was running back
 and forth with armfuls of paper
 a     touch
 down to the genome
          SAVE THE
       ah because suddenly you care
 language and its vulgar rotations
 grass thinks too
 is thinking:
       ‘my only’
Send Letters To:
                The Editor 
                London Review of Books, 
                28 Little Russell Street 
                London, WC1A 2HN
letters@lrb.co.uk
                Please include name, address, and a telephone number.
            

