THE OCCULT HAND
By David Allen
I admit it
I confess
I joined a cult
Who would’ve guessed
That I’d fall in
With an obscure band
But it’s true that
I’m an Occult Hand.
I was baptized five times
When just a tyke
As my Mom searched
For a church she liked
But what I found
Was no Christian cult
I found my niche
When, I became an adult
I turned to the Dark Side
The Fourth Estate
Covering the news
In several states
I wrote about crime
And I covered the courts
And for a short time
I even wrote about sports
But the best gig of all
Was when I moved to Japan
And Stars and Stripes gave
Me a bureau to command
It was when Okinawa
Went through a serious drought
A strange story surfaced
And I found out about
A ritual on a tiny isle
Where the villagers danced
With a priestesses
Who sang a chant
And soon weeks of rain
Fell on a single day
“It was if an occult hand
Swept clouds Okinawa’s way.”
An editor in Tokyo laughed
And let the lede stand
That’s how I became a member
Of the Occult Hand
It’s a secret order that never meets
Lacks a leader and has but one rite
“It’s as of an occult hand had…”
The reporter must write
Publication of the phrase
Gives the writer full rights
To boast he’s a member
On post-deadline nights
Bragging to his bar mates
Toasting to the cult
Regaling them with stories
With each Guinness gulp
Type Dancing 