13 April 2010

i'm afraid i have nothing to say

a voodoo man stole my voice
in a dream last night

he didn't like my cigarettes

he stood over me with
otherworldly powers
and all i could do was stare


at the spanish moss draped to frame
my imminent death

and every scream
from every other dream
clotted in my throat

dressed in his sunday best
the voodoo man stole my voice

i became envious of the swamp
and its song
and prayed for a jazz funeral

black umbrellas and polished brass
and i'll bury my thoughts because
the voodoo man stole my voice.


  1. dr john would be proud....i like this one. its different from your other ones. even though its a little scary is also some what playful in a half-smile sort of way.

  2. I like. "clotted in my throat". Very cool.