Saturday, August 31, 2013

....and That Dear Friends is Swamp Music (Last Line)

     He slipped in the door through a sliver of a shadow, teeth clenched, the veins on the side of his neck as visible as rivers on a map. The voodoo priestess looked at him and shook her head.


     "Oh no, not you, you need to git on outta here baby boy, I am not gettin' mixed in any of your nonsense again."


    He sat back and pulled a plug from his shirt pocket, biting off a sizable chunk and chewing vigorously.


    "I done fucked up Charley, you gotta help me....the curse of the toads is on me somethin' fierce."


    He pulled up his sleeve and Charly could see the skin on his forearm turning a dull green brown.


    "Who did this too you baby boy....this is bad, and I ain't talking food poisoning bad, I'm talking black magic bad." She took a closer look and shivered. As she leaned in she could smell a musty, muddy odor coming off him, a swamp smell.


    "Coal Black, what in the hell have you done?"


    "Just fix me Charly... I don't want to be no damn toad." He began to whimper and scratch at his arm.


    "Who done this Coal and why?"


    "It was Mama Zen, I swear it." Charly flinched, she looked nervous and began to curse under her breath. She knew Mama Zen had strong magic, and the backing of the Iberville Saints on her side.


    "Now why you gotta go and and cross that black cats path for, you ain't nuttin' but a fool."


    "I took it Charly, I didn't want too, but them words was pretty. Pretty like snow pretty Charly, prettier than that girl on Bourbon that don't wear nuttin' but paint on her boobs."


    "Whose words baby boy, whose words you done stole?" She glared him with narrowed eyes probing.


    "South Africa," he said in a whisper.


    Her breath caught and she shook her head violently.


    "No, no, no, Jesus no." She began to cry. She knew beauty, and she knew magic, and what she really knew was that there was no saving Coal Black.


    "Go get my keys boy, I'm  taking ya to Lil' Ones place..... Tonight."


    "Why Lil' Ones Charly, is it safe there?"


    "No baby boy, but he's got a real nice garden."

Monday, August 19, 2013

That's My Girl

She fit the mold, that’s for sure
But that dirty bitch had charisma for miles
And the girls felt the presence, the heat of the shift

“You going to the party?”
“Hell, I’m throwing the party luv.”
“Ain’t no one gonna show.”
“Except you, now don’t go lettin’ me down.”

A threat falls on deaf ears if a girl’s strong
A midnight tryst with butcher’s tools
A blinding light and power ebbs…..sister’s of the mind and the thigh

“Ill take you darlin’ scars and all”
“You gave me these scars.”
“Think of em as sort of comin’ out present.”
“You can have me on Wednesdays, behind the church.”

Gasping for air in a vacuum, like kissing in a tornado
You live or die in a lover’s knot cinched too tight
Shedding your soul for hers feels good until morning

“I have to go home.”
“This is your home, your blood, my blood, it’s the bond.”
“I’ll die before the sun sets.”
“I’ve got a shovel.”

Bayou Moon

The moon smiled and told me that my hair looked swell
And I followed her to the top of that hill
The one where Rosemary lost her cherry, screaming Henry
The one where Jo Boy pulled the trigger, spreading himself thinner

Its voodoo child
You better get on home before Mary rips your eyeballs out
That bridge was made for jumping
That moon, she'll fuck  your head
Laugh at you through the bubbles sure
You best stay in tonight

At  the top of the hill, that moon put on her mask, lord have mercy
And asked if I loved her as much as Henry said
Henry was a no good cheat of a man, I'd kill him if I could
But I blushed and gave her flowers and glimpsed her cleavage

Its voodoo child
That spot just above her legs is angry
Bury you faster than Typhoid Mary
That moon, she'll fuck your head
Laugh at you through the flames burnin'
You best stay in tonight

Have you ever made love to the moon, forget your name
Sweet whiskey dreams and the pungent smell of love on leather
She'll give you things that will make you forget sweet sunshine
Give it up for another taste of her wine, brush of her thigh

Its Voodoo child 
You made your bed boy
She'll cut your throat fine
That moon she'll fuck your head
Laugh at you through your broken dreams
You should have stayed in

© 2011 Crowley