Old Science (New poem)

Old Science (What I Used to Know)

Crush your eggshells always; else witches build them into ships, and
Use them to kidnap sailors from their hulls.
If you wish to know the contents of a mind, place your hands
On the head and feel the coarseness of the skull.

Illness is always caused by imbalance, too much blood, or phlegm
That must be bled out to restore balance and vitality.
Illness is always an invasion by an outside, a “Them”
Or else (much worse), a mutiny, a “we”.

All we are is encoded, two intertwining strands
That are no more or less poetic than an enterprising psalm.
If you wish to know the contents of a heart, place your hands
In their hands, and trace the indentations in their palm.

If you spill salt, you must remember to throw it high
Over your shoulder to avoid future tears.
For those who scoff at ghosts, remember, some of those stars we steer by
Have been dead now for thousands of years.