Malleus Maleficarum- The Hammer of The Female Evil-Doers

By Nix Carlson

Force me into the kitchen, order me to knead bread, churn butter.

Find rosemary hung from rafters, chicken bones strewn upon the hearth.

The broth warmed to feed your swollen bellies – my death sentence.

When you bring a meal to your lips, 

your skin will boil and bubble, 

slough off like onion paper flakes.

A good wife submits to her husband.

Meets him kneeling on shards of rice, mouth open, eyes lowered. 

Praise my tongue by candlelight, now testify – my fluency in tongues.

When you lay your head on your feathered pillow, 

let your limbs be heavy with weights as the devil mounts you, 

thrusts hatpins through your spine. 

A wise mother brings up sons with callused fingers, burning palms.

Paint me his soft-bosomed keeper, fist of iron to keep him in his place.

My child grows to melt my hands like wax – forged into shackles behind my back.

When your child finds your metallic eyes, 

they will bind your hands, hang you by your fingertips, 

unhinge your ribs.

Send me to the gallows.

Half-drown me as the tide rushes in.

Hang me like a pendant on your mistress’ neck.

Set my corpse ablaze for the crime of being a witch woman.

My daughters will be free of your vile oppression.

They will dance naked, turn the moon to ash beneath their heels.

They will bleed freely, knot umbilical cords into charms.

My magick will live in their bloodstream, free them from your sons.

By Nix Carlson