VooDoo Ahmos ZuBolton

Voodoo Ahmos ZuBolton
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I felt old as sin—
keeping quiet as you played
those ancient exorcism games
from your southern boyhood

louisiana writhed—
the old magnolias bloomed
the cypresses in the swamps
the spanish moss drooping

you danced nude—
in that cane field at night
swinging your sharp machete
shining in the levee moonlight

i used to watch you—
exorcise yourself in moonlight
the invisible hoodoo voodoo
blues undressing the nightfall

the blues were ancient—
older than any living thing
it outshined the daylight
turning day into night

the blues were older than—
footprints on the egypt moon
there on the porch listening to
you rocking in that chair

you let me know—
about lucifer down in the gulf
before katrina came & went
slowdragging the dead back home

the poisoned currents—
combing the deep waters
oil-slicks killing the shrimp
gone dead pelicans and fish

you told me of a time—
when we both would tapdance
and tiptoe thru the tulips
arm in arm, naive & smiling

but the world is never—
what it seems, your slight frame
and smoke dreadlocks gave you
the appearance of an ancient soul

the black arts movement—
came and went along with all that
black political and spiritual energy
we birthed in the 1960s

you became a storytelling “griot”—
keeper of African oral traditions for
those who still wanted to know
what it was like back then...