…..an invocation to the north is not going to contact what most people would consider to be desirable forces. from Applied Magic by Dion Fortune

see w/ what longing our anxious music concerns itself
& listen to towering silence of the clocked world
that shuttling intention of geometry
the dance she ob/
served
grit knees hands grappling w/ containment

strict measurements prevail
from now on it’s all arcs and dusty angles
from the edge where the windmill choir sings
to these dull colonies boxed tensions
closeted and muffled in brute valley

this chimney world insists itself upon us
a shouldering yob of beery certainty
occupies the estate
slum boots it through the town
praises the unity of stone
and all these pinnacles of light the incinerator
the university
the town hall
the gasometre
the chemical plan
the railway
are miracles of his dreaming

i caught you looking he shouts
for a clear sky where on summer days
kites swoop and dip

and the many many dark windows sigh
for all that is dead
shackled to the sill & envying smoke-birds
who who who on a ledge balancing
are trapezing artists in evening pink lights
but nobody is waiting

here we only applaud the suicides

while the shadows are conquered the greenwood’s pressed
to leafy outbursts out west and up to the hill north
the ladies sigh you can’t beat a lovely landscape

the valley is a deep dark pit of nothing

reaches down to snag

pipe & loiter

chuckle in the bus shelter to a bottle or two

singing a name over and over and if only it would rain

the sun’s become a hole for snakes to slip thro

ozone trinkets and blister

her wide guffaw so red i reared it in the mountains

on perilous jagged places of fairy

a myth to run from w/ the spit of fire on yr tail

her scales starred the old black sky w/ wonder

earth tethered n hearth fettered n fearing a shout

sirens her foxy sisters redheads the lot of them

come down from on high street

to dour-fluster and beat on car roofs

can u hear me can u hear me

she’s fit for burning this un

the worm run rife w/ sparkles

old diamante trickling from her ears

her beady tiara’s glistening w/ gossip

her bags full of plunder

follow the road north
homes ripped open & families
exposed to the war of maps

inside the glow from a small lantern on a rough ledge

what’s this light licks dark heart

affray a friggin nights fierce work of war

let loose it’s litter of maggots & cluttered antics

to scuffle on yard and for what

this hill her lands fierce pregnancy

where scale n tooth thrashes a fable

of gold hid deep beneath tongue & so on

a spawn of monstrous eggs

her dragonwomb’s for the devil to get w/

I’ll not wait

for maps frail stutter tracks to

go north up the canal and find a man
fishing bent over into occupation
mesmerised by stillness and travelling

there are tiny cream candles in the crevices

lit evidences//blink shadow

wedges of night stuff bewilder walls

brute furnishings while snakedevils lure n orbit our chamber

a winter spoke to emptiness our wishfull bellies failed sacks

our stubborn men scrag n stunt come legging up north path

from what’s hidden to my scrying what i couldn’t conjure up from their scrubbones lily bleached skulls

& oh unlooking sockets

a grief comes petalling at my throat

they laugh & drink hard at the earth

these greedy boys

and whisper sluttings in my wreathing hair

in the silence a hand gently srokes my hair

nec

romanced

trash spit banter chestful of anger my lads

lust spun in star fettered vastness

my heart’s a nightful of beyondings

the maps not magicked yet a journey

it takes the world to root

what path reaches my raw hand on the earths bed

beside the parked car on the wasteland where daisies nod and loom

go north and the children sing tuneless songs
leave the bus to adventure private islands

twist into the forests and come upon a house white as cheese
where ladies live w/ pink coats and grey curls
and find shane’s bright shriek but nothing more
of his story whipped across a blank wall