Mojo a-coming and a Jim Morrison poem.
I left Ann Arbor in 1990. The dead man walking had nothing to lose. Joined a war to see, if he was alive or dead?
The damn war taught me, Johnnie was dead yet. I learn l loved the taverns and the opportunities to dance with the devil.
Johnnie left Iraq in the Winter of 1991, roamed for 40 days in the cities of sin. He danced in the city of New Orleans with a dark-skin voodoo lady. She saved him, the kind woman showed him, life is hard and we must be harder. They danced and drank, she whispered love words till the morning light. She held him tight and she gave him a thousand kisses. She told him. Old Johnnie ain’t dead yet. I feel your mojo coming back. Time for you to steal from life, no-more the beggar from Michigan. Be the lion from Detroit. Write your words down and move forward, forget the bad days. Make some good days.
I found peace in Austin, Texas. The old city had the feel of wild west, tall Texas girls and cheap drink. Austin become my place to be. The women were sweet and kind. They asked you to dance. They made brave men more brave.
In Las Vegas, I roamed the Devil city. Gamble a little and I talked with men, like me. Men, who gave in and now. Facing life without fear. I learn, nothing free in the Devil’s nest.
I loved the California sun, after crossing the mountain. I saw warm days and I wanted the sea. I remember seeing the sea outside of San Francisco. I stopped my truck and I danced for hours with the Pacific. I sat with her and I prayed. Thank you Lord of life and death. For these days.
Johnnie had never lost his mojo. The mojo-dancing was locked-up and waiting. I learn life is simple, don’t die till you must, you never know what is a-coming.