The Rules of Djinn

“The mind and body must be subjected to extreme stimulus, by means of drugs and music.”
- Hunter S. Thompson

I.

Kanpur, on the Ganges River,
Visions of fever and spice
Corrugated tin, tanning skin
Monkeys in trash bins
Thinning bulls, the Rules of Djinn

I was witness to a singular experience
Myriad urban scents that traveled on orient
Breezes drifting through waves of opium
And poppy plant
Profound, messianic chants

In an insensate nauseousness
Skirting vibrations of the Krishna Consciousness
Self-prescribed pneumatic bliss
Visions of mustaches and oil eyes
The cigarette haze still persists

It was with a wandering Brahmin
(He had lived 80 years, and half in hermitage)
That I set about my pilgrimage
In mountains dense with cacti
Where the horizon met the black sky

Drawing poison from a narghile
Exhaling forbidden taste of herb and sin
He taught me the Rules of Djinn
He taught me the Rules of Djinn

II.

On a freighter heading East
I waved my last goodbye at the horizon
And its black sky,
The legs of Kanpur spread and sighed
Herds subject to the bot flies

The passing of an age carried me
Towards the scent of sage
Alcatraz and crashing waves
Ivory, emboldened state
Fields of wheat and the Golden Gate

The great, rising churches of sisterly Sorority
The plateaus of Patriotic priority
Self-indoctrinated superiority
Spitting gyzym into Swedish sperm banks
Taxes paying for toy tanks

Foggy San Francisco moored me inside of her
In dock houses that bored me
Tank top seraphim tendering nicotine and passing cards
Pulling and tugging weight -
Shouldering corrugated freight

Dim jazz halls thick with alcohol fumes
Darkened, occupied curtain rooms
Credit cards and razor blades
Pills in every shape and shade
Like the cats in Chinese restaurants
     
It was with the wayward homeless
(Who had lived long years feeding pigeons)
That I set about my pilgrimage
In skeleton buildings draped with tarp
Where old men died alone, trapped in dark

Drawing caramel from a syringe
Exuding the deep apathetic, pure vibration
They taught me the Rules of Djinn
They taught me the Rules of Djinn

III.

I am in New Mexico,
Where the valley swallows the sun
Like the raven, and pointed, shuns
The demons from their alcoves
And receives them

I kiss cacti, honoring the paws
Of sentinel mountain lions
Vying to extend my soul its
Thread was too fine to hold
And I rode a squall to Mescalero

At length, I squinted
Through the sweat in my oil eyes
As a sandstorm tore at textured skies
My hand gripped a rabbit’s head
Absorbing the desert and its dread

It was with the eldest Shaman
(Who had watched an era like the Brahmin)
That I set about my pilgrimage
In mesas where the bulls collapse
Unending, ephemeral absinthe taps

Drawing sour breaths, tanning skin
Raving at cosmic position, my place therein
I taught myself the Rules of Djinn
I taught myself the Rules of Djinn

IV.

There are places in our history
Which sentiment suggests
The ragged burning in my chest
Fading feeling, paling, thin
Son, daughter, kith and kin
You grasp where I have been
I will teach you the Rules of Djinn
I will teach you the Rules of Djinn