damon the daemon

damon the daemon
spent his life as a merchant seaman
feeding his love of faith and freedom
endlessly dreaming region to region

damon the daemon
drifted ashore in a hard, dry season
lost his shoes but kept his reason
hitched the whole damned country preaching

damon the daemon
knocked on the cafe door and came in
not a red cent to sustain him
I knew the face but couldn’t name him

damon the daemon
pitched his hat on the hook like a drayman
smiled with teeth as neat as a caiman
hold on to your souls, boys; hot coffee and rolls for a sermon

damon the daemon
leaped on the counter and laid in
gave us all the scenes he’d played in
the dark time, port-side dives he’d stayed in

damon the daemon
eyes as wild as a clifftop beacon
finished his show without more speaking
reaped the rapture he was seeking

damon the daemon
suddenly seeming somewhat beaten
quietly sat; I watched him eating
asked him where he planned on sleeping

damon the daemon
sighed as I slid him a coffee with cream in
spooned it slow like a man done scheming
asked which way for the garden of eden

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