The Witch Doctor Visions

I was born into the hands
of a laughing demon
in the back room of an apothecary
in New Orleans
circa 1617.

Let it be known that
when the witch doctor stared
into my red eyes,
the moment of my first cries,
he sucked air into his mouth fast,
held his breath for 45 seconds
and then let it out with a deep sigh
that rattled the very walls
of that establishment
and then he groaned in disillusion.

I knew what he was thinking
and thus I responded
with a haunted growl,
the flock of ravens
sitting on the tombstones
across the street
took flight in whispers
and soft hisses.

Meanwhile,
in a small village in
modern day Pakistan,
a rebel for the white knight
mounts his horse,
shouts into the sky
an old religious curse
on the land
and leads his soldiers
to the center of the town-
he was told to leave no survivors
and he is a man who follows directions.
I could hear the screams
from where I lay,
mass graves leave an energy imprint
on our DNA,
Templar fever is spreading.

Approximately one hour after the slaughter,
a 23 year old man awakes
from his nightmare sweating
and turns to his Russian wife:
"wake up,
that fucking bastard
killed even the children
in that little town
with the tip of his
thrusting sword,
into their chests,
drinking their blood.

Soar with me to the 21st century,
watch the goth teens
down that one alley in Brooklyn,
shooting up heroin again,
standing in the shadows,
waiting for hot legs to walk by and bother-
just because,
"hell, there's nothing else
to do in this fucking lame town."

Sitting in my shower,
taking crawlspace intuition
deeper into wonderland,
I fall into the rabbit hole
and wait for the secrets
to unfold in the basement
where my astral body lands:
Joan bennet Ramsey and her father,
painted faces,
sad eyebrows and dark horses
swarm around me.
I cough and the man
standing in the corner
by the window steps into view,
he laughs and disgusts me.

I jolt awake and vomit out the sinister maniac
with the wild beast hair
hanging in his face.
I watched him murder that poor child
with a plastic bag and a hair tie,
and after a night like this one,
I will never be the same.
All the visions I have,
I carry with me into the daytime,
but I won't tell you every image-
most I take with me to the sea
with the moon
shining and smiling on the water.