Bankrupt Witchcraft

Salt the relics and turn the wine
that conjured vinegar from yams and yeast.
Tradition is a jester and a jailor.
Sister! The hex on the table –

You lied in the spring, you lied in the rain.

Empty seat and shattered cup are the devil’s tax.
Pay your toll and tithe, selfish girl,
in blasphemous stellar parallax.

I served you the spring, I hid you from the rain.

The foods here are raw and crushed –

the cranberry sauce, my pain.

December the Last, 2015

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