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Devil's Got a Lien on My Soul
By
Rudolph Lewis
Can we be you and me
more than the photos taped to the inner
walls of my skull—your
father, mother, daughters, grandchildren,
pastor, church
members, nieces, nephews, friends? I toss & turn in
the morning hours with
all this empty space between us. It’s too late
you don’t hear me
hollering. My dreams have been dammed, hell
hounds got my feet
moving in unfamiliar darkness. Your reverend
with his business
book, his special hand shake can’t let me be. I
look out my window no
leaves cling to tree limbs. Nothing is as it
should be. My folks
now gone like the wind did the best they
could with a caress. I
call a gambling woman to take virgin dust
from around my door.
The dawn breaks the night & you’re not
turning the knob of my
door—it’s that blue & evil spirit, deep
that won’t let me
change my way of living. There’s no place wild
I got to go. There’s
no woman to make me satisfied, to break it
all down—to make me
lose these doubts. Behind bars I learn
bodies pressed hot & sweaty together will not
come again. |