spell book
it says that the hands that planted the stain
should be crooked and fat on the bone,
that the curve of finger should flex
like a purposeful wand, there should be
no back fire, there should be no graveyard dance,
there should be a moon falling out of your mouth,
there should be a howl, a drip, a cloak, a portal,
teeth patterns on the thighs, circular motion, breaking of the sun,
the sun, the sun, here is the rainfall, here is the light
to find your way home. here, two gems gleaming
in your skull, deep gloves, wrists, your wrists
tied up in my ribbons, vacant lot where the ghosts turn to dogs,
your voice engaging in ritual, there should be a howl, because inside you
there is a spectacular power that spins pentacles and spits sweet,
skeptic and broomstick, weathervane and downpour, emptying
of all potions, a whisper following the release, there should be a howl,
bruised knees, and calling for the sun, the sun, the sun.
BY NIC ALEA
Nic Alea is a Bay Area based poet who co-hosts an open mic, The New Shit Show, which focuses on the production of new work. They also help facilitate a creative writing workshop in the Solano Juvenile Detention Center with The Beat Within. Nic has been published in word riot, >kill author, The Evergreen Review and some other cute places. Nic is a 2012 Lambda Literary Fellow and their chapbook (no trees, all pianos) can be purchased at nicaleapoetry.bigcartel.com.