A Voodoo Poet

Burning the Cross where Jesus dies,
He mounts the awful, giddy stair
Where evil spirits paralyse
The Serpent in its hidden lair.

Beneath the spinach of the skies
He combs the charcoal from his hair
With words that somehow symbolise
The agony of God's despair.

But April monkeys will appease
The cancer of his twisted care
And poisoned rabbits of disease
Reveal the answer to his prayer.