When I remember it's for me

11/21/2022 it goes better for you (spell-work)

Start with Black Salt & Chilli Powder

(H-E-R-E)

Extend past the horizon — in Hebrew El — in Arabic Al

Extend infinitely — the reason Al & El are often used in Angel names

Let your desire curve the spell — to act as a gravitational well — this is where it begins and ends

In the story of your life — you are always patient zero

Let’s not forget you’re also the Doctor

And all theose who appear and disappear in this story

this spell we call our lives

Salt
Dr. Concrescence circa 2006

You laughed when I called salt an element
but there was a wraith sleeping outside the door
on a rusty board, barbed in ways no fakir could
fake, and no one knew the hoodoo, so we had

to go back to the basics, uncharted, un-rational
with someone, who is known by someone else,
but you can not depend on what everyone knows
only on what those who know, can tell you--

ragged black, Salvation Army rejects, hand rolled
cigars, to cover the scent, you’re thankful he’s
whispering, because otherwise it would be a shout
exploding, bringing trouble or spirits that no amount

of sage, garlic or tepid baptismal water can scare off
and all he says is: If a witch come to your house, say, 'Kiss my
ass' three time under your breath; and he can't harm you.
Which is about as helpful as showing a grid

with nitrogen and oxygen to the wind, and asking
the roof to stay on, but I was talking elemental, the
stuff in your blood, the missing link, our genetic
memories of being fishes, where life, liberty and the

pursuit of happiness is not just a good idea, but the ocean’s
only law, and it burns, too caustic for the subtle,
too casual for the serious, but just right for midnight
encounters, and those too far gone to remember

where they belong, or what belonging is, just another drift
wood moment, sunset and skinny legs, exoskeletons,
down to embers, we burned the dry bits. Who’s at the door?
Only me

Much love,

Con/Jur/d, 11/21/2022