Seven Finger Scratch, Cullowhee Poetry Therapy

a Judaculla Rock n' Roll Song, by Faris Greybear, So.Po., Oh., pi-day, 3.14.15

like the foam formin' at the corners of your mouth,
as you run yourself breathless, endless as a train...

Arnh(t)'in, rain loud on barn tin.
Roast beef Rax by the Heartland tracks,
Dodge and slice, bob and weave,
ever to cross Big Ice...

In copper ground, mountains all around,
Giant Hunter's stone's thrust.
Three iron trusses, one blue,
one green, one horse rust

Head wrapped in Tennessee turban,
not preacher, just teacher,
Sequoyah Cherokee Mullah.
Hieroglyph to Syllabary,
Rural cursive to Phoenix print urban,
Just the seven finger scratch,
of the Giant Judaculla

Author's Note

in the Jollicky shadow of the giant, recliner unlocked with my chair key, the therapy of poetry