18    Anathemata

n + 1

A pointless question repeated,

a way of peering into the abyss,

it appeals to me, this

crack in the cave wall.

If lost in the event field

of a fallow horizon,

if black sounding strings

see Thuban align again,

a chiasmus of things set apart

will amplify his dreadful heart.

 . . . from Lindum to London

bridges broken down 

Gale, hail, tornadoes of razor wire,

floods, muds, deserts of city and shire,

then moor and fen will wild again

to crack and cook and burn.

See: the omelette… stinks. 

And purple tongued it turns on Tyre

to swallow the whole hollow folktale

up to the head where, it is said,

the universe shrinks to strings of nothing.

0→∞

Now, it’s time to pick up an old guitar,

make it a chicken,

an old house cat,

a gift card,

a bird, a snake,

but no black noise

and without knowing what I’m doing!

(Geoffrey Mark Matthews 3 February 2023)

19    Anna the Witch

“Anna are you worn and hard by your graft?

Anna will you wail and chill like the draft?

Anna will you tell us a tale of your craft?”

“Though spikey lees, behind betray,

I will not tell thee how I play,

I will not tell thee of the cave,

Nor of the silent darkness’ wave.”

“Anna play your tricks on me,

Anna, show your power to see,

Anna, Anna hear my plea!”

“Nay child I will not now bewitch thee,

Neither will I conjure here the sidhe,

To haunt and never let thee free.”

“Anna, with a thong of leather,

Anna, with a lucky heather,

Anna can you bend the weather?”

“Gale and hale, tornadoes of fire,

Flood and muds, deserts and mire,

Rain wash down the fools and all,

Silence follows final call.”

(Graham   27 February 2023)