The Midwitchesare sorcerers between science & prophecy,prick at bone heels to lumin four red moons.Go door-to-door as sales-people of healthand five portions of frightful vag.Hands mole over wombs, a search for armadillos with the shells removed.Eavesdroppers of heartbeats, a swoosh of black boots on a poppy tarmac.So much care taken over sutures to sewwomen back together, as if labiais the label in the pubic sweater.100% flesh. Keep away from fire.Grey fusili cord uncoiled & cut with clippersred-metallic, to be auctioned as keyrings.

Trolley dollies of pethidine & pleaded-forpain in the hold-up at placenta patisserie.Then you left the room: came backto a hijacked child suckling on porkpopsicles of piglets. A midwife called Starwith such advice as: eat pineappleto make the contractions start. A trade secret on how to start the woman off -a hook on a long silver stick. You thoughtthat was medieval until they unveiled the weights of sugar-balanced silver scales.Pessaries inserted with a card dealer'sconfidence, smoke potions up the flesh fluethey chant & turn to face you -a postnatal door opens a room - a cage of film-noir -a creel of white hair strung up in the rails.