I have knots in my stomach, snakes in my brain, balls of pig iron in my joints and toes. No doctor will cure me. No doctor will treat me. So I calm myself as best I can...eyes fixed on movie Zombies, heart beating like jungle drums. Dance to me, witch Doctor. Exorcise me, priest in Latin tongue. Free me from my devil invaders, my invasive enemies in thought and body. Let me thirst for life once more, to taste its succor of sweet joy. Palliative movies, cease at night. I need, need, need, to untie knots, slay snakes, melt away pig iron and let the soul inside me be mine alone. What course I take, I don't know. But it must be done.