Prologue, verses and epilogue, either side and scattered amid Act I through Act V thus the poetic mystery Mississippi Witch Dance and Harpe's Mislaid Head, based on the 18th century river pirates/robbers and serial killers Harpe Brothers as well a Natchez Trace legend, taken from my 9th book The MEMPHIS NIGHTCLUB MURDERS & Other Poetic Mysteries...
Prologue - Dead Stag Tavern
`Twas late summer of 1799, betwixt the cackling twines
By lines pitched and embattled, or clangorously prattled
Pious proprietor of Dead Stag Tavern, oft near-cadaver-ed
Upon hours latter, past eve's dusk, slathered in ale's musk
And mutterings brusque and brisk mid sputtering and hiss
Beard foamed, face on floor's loam, after nightly roams
To tables from barrier, as keep and carrier of rough brews
For young ruffians and wrung crews, travelers and drifters
Adventurers and tradesmen, teamsters and herdsmen alike
Relished or disliked the anecdotes, embellished or by rote
Truly odd his ways and means, a gray Duncan MacKean
Ballad Befitting for Harpe's Beheading
(verse one)
“O the fine dagger lingers upon the swagger's nape
Flung to dung, his dandy hat, then grander cape
Gaping the throat, draping the skin, a crimson rite
A grieving groom's right, relieving by July's night”
(chorus)
“Alas the wicked head to duly part
From the neck of Micajah Harpe”
(verse two)
“O the thirsty killer, by posse's shot, markedly holed
Laid albeit, slain when flayed, to sustain upon pole
Carcass un-gowned, whilst vengeance runs down
From blood-strait `low his crown to Devil's ground”
Élégie par l'Acadien
“Chaque rocher dans mes bottes avec les trous
Cette chance est pour moi mais je suis fourré
Ces épines dans mes foutus chemise et pantalon
Cette bénédiction de mine mais je suis fourré”
Threnody I and II by Two Colleens
“Felicity urn-ed in threnody, by concerned stolidity
Churned whimsy or yearned artistry, seen obscene
`Twixt and `tween, polities of piety then popularity
Grins as such, prick as much, the voodoo schemes”
“O pins of societal queens, cold tines spiking spines
From misery's dark womb, until agony's stark tomb
Broad as seas, deep as wounds, brimming by brine
Whilst pain cries, `low goddamn sackcloth on loom”
Geileis' Presage by Prescient Lament
“Pursuing forth from the north and descended
Treasure intended, albeit purpose pretended
By what measure, yea, by what arrangement
Suffered thusly, one per bloody estrangement
For haughty taunts, his disemboweled loins
His beheaded crown, buried mid silver coins”
Regrettable Jeremaid or Lamentable Quid
“Widowed then strewn upon floors, ergo thrown
Run through for odd thirst, by staid pistols first
Second intended, by thieves' blades, as undefended
Hence the third, by flesh, per wrath and shafts”
“Murderous consummation, oh ruinous violation
Wantonly tossed, thusly lost, possessed liken Faust
Fear-obsessed until, our own daggers fulfilled
Such bloody thrill yet empty, withal, their plenty”
Epilogue - Return to Dead Stag Tavern
O `twas late spring of 1800, between flings and humdrum
Mid dregs and conundrums, the customary vociferations
And usual elaborations, by gray Duncan MacKean's brays
Between two frayed from travel, liquored hence babbled
Chronicled bit by bit, their misadventure then misfortune
Interrupted oft by croons of ole MacKean's drunken runes
Alas, Duncan's boon seemed crass, to the downcast lads
Though Roland retorted not, nor Frédéric likely resorted
As reported, rumors repeated, epic of treasure discovered
Upon Harpe's head severed, mounted, mislaid, recovered
Then impounded, aft two astounded, per bloody mayhem
By thirteen's vim for prim retaliation, grim mutilation fitly
Copyright © 2018 by D.C. Quillan Stone
