in the icy swirl
          of deep-inhale
            I reach down inside
                      to darkest
       heated flesh-fabric
removing the clothing
of my soul,
feeling the layers
                slowly  undone
                      the flay
                        of my own fleece
                          the peeling
                    of my own pelt
            penetrating
                through tissue,
                     a journey to the
                          deep heart of me,
                         cut in one clean move
                         and yet, like a miracle
                  there is
             no pain
                   just magnet-connect
                     beyond the cusp
                            of words
                              that curl from our
                                             tongues
                                      rising up in
                      latticed affirmations
                    a cleansing in frost
a constant, aquamarine renewal
and there is no past
no future
      just this prism
           of crystal liquid jewels
      flowing in
gentle,
         cellular music
             straight into the strands        
                    of our veins
and I miss you
like you have gone
on the long winter hunt
my longing splayed out
like an animal skin on
                    four poles
its tendons stretched
beyond measure
yet holding fast
with a roof over my head,
                    I acknowledge
             my restlessness
I am my own
       hunter-forager,
         both searching and found,
                     gathering up bits  
               of velocity
stroking the ribbons
of passion
stoking the fires of my
              heart and hearth
protecting what is us
like a lioness
for we are overflowing
with both strength
         and tenderness
              our own bones
ingredients of the wild soup              
of our feral union
of our constant rebirth
our very dna
          weaving itself
like heartstrings
               in the rush      
of
       time

Someone died today
No headlines
The two lines on page nine taken up with the rescue of the local cat
Just a statistic
Would be sad
But there really wasn’t time for that
The vicar performing a wedding that day
Didn’t really need this
Put out, but would fit it in
The fifty pound fee would come in handy
His parents wouldn’t be attending
He was such a disappointment to them
Could have been a doctor
Instead followed his dream
Sometimes dreams take time
Just like life
Sometimes life is cruel
The dog wasn’t badly hurt
Just dazed when the car hit it
The crowd gathered, concerned
Man's best friend
He lay in the corner, dying
People passed him by
Just a statistic
Following his dream
Into the next life...

First, you need to mix the potion.
You must read the instructions very carefully
You don’t want to be summoning up any old witch.
So make sure it’s the October manual.
Especially as we know what happened last year.
How you got October mixed up with November is nobody's business.
But my god, when I saw the fire brigade heading to the Houses of Parliament, I just thought to myself, what has the idiot done this time.
Now I know what you’re going to say.
What about that little corporal guy you summoned up.
Okay, I take that on board, he looked harmless enough, little pencil moustache set him apart from the usual riff raff.
How the hell was I to know he wanted to rule the world.
Just goes to show you.
Nearly lost my brewing license over that.
Then you went for, in your own words, that guy who makes people laugh.
Atila for fun.
Are you dyslexic or what.
The grief that caused
Another warning handed out.
So let's have a look at the ***** ups over the years, see if we can rectify them this year.
This is what you’ve summoned up so far.

Sirenes
The Cheeky girls

The Teletubbies.
That guy who said, I didn’t have *** with that woman, that week.
European Union
Hp  Poets

You can see how the coven is not over the moon with this lot.
So, before you summon up anyone this year, I’m going to be looking over your shoulder, make sure you get it right.
Right, the mixture is brewing up fine, looking good.
Okay, begin the summoning up.
Oh great spirit in the brew, sum us up something new.
Okay looking good, coming through now.
A big dumb guy wearing a wig.
Right, I like it, do you have a name for him.
Trumpy  you think.
Looks more like a Donald to me.
But the main thing is.
He looks harmless enough...