Fall 2009, Volume 7

Poetry by Marty Silverthorne

a cure for what ails me

in hours of drug induced sleep
a veiled woman appears: chants
magic words, take a thimble of
menstrual blood from the village virgin,
a teaspoon of amniotic fluid
from a cow birthing a three legged calf,
grind two castrated houseflies
into a thick paste, spoon into a ball jar,
add two yellow cowbird eyes,
mix with a teaspoon of oil
blessed by an adulterous preacher; 
from a quart of moonshine take a sip
every hour while collecting the potion,
pour 1 tablespoon of white liquor into
the ball jar, stir vigorously, seal it,
set it in an east window for three mornings,
move to a west window for three afternoons 
wring the neck of the smallest pullet
saving a feather from right and left wings
scald, pluck, and quarter, fry it crisp
serve with macaroni and string beans
on the first Sunday to the unholy preacher,
stir the poultice liberally on the 4th
Sunday of the shortest month using
feathers from the pullet, apply to afflicted
area, crawl backwards through the house,
lay prostrate on the linoleum floor,
wait for winter lightning to strike.


BIO:  Marty Silverthorne resides in Greenville, North Carolina, where he is a Licensed Clinical Addiction Specialist. He holds degrees from St. Andrews Presbyterian College and East Carolina University. His collections of poems are Dry-Skin Messiah, Pot Liquor Promises, No Welfare, No Pension Plan, and Rewinding at 40. He was the recipient of the Sam Ragan Award 1993 and has received several NC Arts Regional Grants.