… and thou Waybroad, mother of herbs / open to the east, mighty within / over you chariots creaked / queens have ridden over you / brides have moaned over you / over you bulls gnashed their teeth / all these you did withstand and resist / so may you withstand poison and infection / and the foe who fares through the land. – from ‘The Nine Herbs Charm’ (Anglo-Saxon)
1.
King of the roadway, I am
ubiquitous – a black crust
baked in the devil’s kitchen.
Nowhere to hide, I conceal
cracks, seams, corral everything
within my smooth arena –
endless empire, S. U. V.
2.
The Sun bubbles up the lane
& I am poised, a strong bid
for liberty – healing bud
measuring her craft. So what
if my quilted tips dip in
molten bitumen? Plantain’s
way is broad, treats many ills.