Witchcraft

Now here’s a tale spun with rattlesnakes Stung into the eyes of motherless guilt Now turn the head! Open the mouth! For all to see, and so, too, that more shall fit! The tainted vapors from our brew! Breathe them, breathe them in! And live like the hellhounds in our minds! And then In the morning you shall wake Returned, confused and dull With nothing but a final sharp memory, Like the wavering buoy in a black sea, Of the world bubbling and spilling from below.