I danced with a voodoo priestess
on a thick and murky night
we were listening to swampy blues
and rutting in the moonlight
she gave me a heady tea to drink
steeped with a hoodoo bag full of imagery
I lost sight of the sounds for a while
and I’m not sure if the ground was under me
I came around to the present again
with the warmth of her body on mine
I found myself then tied by the fire
with my torso covered in lines
shapes & runes, symbols & letters
from a language to which I do not think I’m privy
I tried to scream but my tongue was numb
and I was feeling rather dizzy
I saw her take a swig from a jug then
& spew fire to nearly blind me
I twisted this way and I twisted that
against all of the ties that binded (sic) me

By then I could feel this strange sensation
coming from the very core of me
like the burning awareness of a thousand souls
sharing torment in perfect harmony
I watch gen-again-eration of voodoo priestesses
dance & rut & brew & serve their men tea
steeped with a hoodoo bag full of imagery
my centuries pass in harmonic torment
steeped with a hoodoo bag full of imagery

I heard Jesus snicker still mad about that bout
by all accounts he always was a sore loser
I sent him a drink and then flashed him a grin
and said, “I’m glad my torment does amuse ya.”
I saw Johnny Rocket jammin’ with Jimi
in the afterlife Winterland
I could still see the blood stain on Johnny’s hollow-body
from where his wife bashed his head in
I saw Freedom & Complicity & Hope & Love
and all their lives they flitter by within a stanza
I saw Skye and Raine and Joy
and all their lives they flitter by within a stanza
I saw my hell hound, Sparky,
chase a phoenix through the embers
and their lives they flitter by within a stanza
steeped with a hoodoo bag full of imagery

This is not how I imagined my fate
suffering through time ever endless
eternally trapped in a hoodoo tea
brewed by voodoo priestess
I’d imagined myself on the crests of the Blue Ridge
telling tales of Appalachian swamp rock
with the Daughter of the Stars in the valley below
as glimpsed from a favored spot

I’d imagined love & beauty & health &
a very different form of harmony
I’d imagined my caging & dying in a blizzard of bullets
and a few ways even less charming
I’d imagined growing old with the love of my life
and drinking fine Booze along with the cheap stuff
I’d imagined playing Frisbee and petting my dog
the sort of thing of which there’s never enough
but I never imagined a fate such as this
a far cry from fine Booze by fire light
and thus be warned of the cost my friend
of swampy blues and rutting in moonlight