Friday, January 16, 2015

Transfiguration Of Blind Joe Death (for John Fahey)

Yeah, on the riverboat, we had it all
the same, and some lived, some got
drunk, some died, some won, some 
lost, some couldn’t remember why
they cried…

….in the fog of the river…drifting 
slowly downstream…someone
playing the banjo…smell of cigar
and pipe smoke..we all knew where 

we were gong to wake up tomorrow…
the slave market…the crossroads of
armies grinding to war…staging area 
before the front lines…dropped into
a hot zone…overrun at base camp
by a sudden onslaught…in the bright
sun of red morning only one bretheren 
dead in his bunk with his throat cut

we were right now
yeah, the riverboat down the vein
we were just drifting on at night, in the 
hazy whisky mind…smoky silence…
we knew there was no future.

We didn’t need one.






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