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Jackson McCarthy

THREE SPELLS

MAKE ME OF THE BODY SPELL


And even if the night were bad,
how could I want the wanting day,
everything in it always receding?

Make me of the body, always. Wouldn’t
mind the blood and guts. Wouldn’t
mind the decay. The taking and never

giving. And even if
our distance never folds,
if stars won’t touch his back—

The yawn I pick up from his
yawn: A memory of a breath
in the surface of the dawn.

LOVE YOUR MESSY HAIR SPELL


Like Venus, like Antinous,
like Pania slipping into the water
when I could not make you stay

or come closer. Love your hair
even when it’s long. Love talking to you
with our masks on. Love when

you take your mask down so I can stare at
your chin. Like a dumber blonder Saint Sebastian
but less tortured and really happy

to see me. O swallow me whole
like Time does, then conquer Time
with your Classical beauty!

MOONLIGHT SPELL


We reach the point
the mind forgets the mind.
Across our great divide

and down to moon-soaked
spots on the floor. I want
to be so consumed by something,

to think that there is no way out.
Turn off the headlights. Tap the stream.
If poetry could make you love me,

it would, I think. Close the windows.
Lock the door. Show me things.
Show me more.


Jackson McCarthy is a poet and student from Tāmaki Makaurau. He was a finalist for the National Schools Poetry Award 2021. His work has been published in Tarot, Starling, Landfall and elsewhere.