W.I.T.C.H.’S OF THE UNDERWORLD

A POEM BY SAM NORDLAND

And the witches of the wild world

Surround me,

Tongues licking black ink of their cats.

Crystals in my hand,

I die on and on, broom in hand and

Mascara masking my rebellion.

 

Leak on me, ink of the underworld,

Split my spirits like no-one else,

And when the flame has finished

Picking pockets of the poor

Let’s rebel and paint red lipstick

On the housewives at home,

Seduce the mechanisms of patriarchy

Into a long red ball gown,

12.00 midnight and the carriage

Waits outside.

Then eat me, and I will stand like

Potatoes cooking.

Eyes, meanwhile, dance their hazy dance

And I swear to the Pagan gods I will

Enjoy this wild being;

 

Red ribbon, tie my waist and suck my soul

Inside, blue eyes baiting the heat

Of the man drunk on power.

Comb my hair, pretty one,

And pull and pull and pull the

Knots out.

 

I look like a girl, but I am not.

So while the tricks play on and on

I swim away in a broken boat,

Oars out for the sharks of the underworld.

Let me whistle away in prickly indignation

And make this psychedelic nothingness

Ours tonight –

 

Vulva on rough vulva and everything more .

 

August 2014

 

Artwork © Anna Block

 

Emma SapersteinComment