Me & the Devil are rivals
for God’s affection.
I can’t say who wins.
My father’s name
is Fate,
my son’s Sin.
My guard dog’s got laryngitis
& knows just one trick—
how to let folks in.
Came home early to find
my fiancee stolen—
her ring’s gone to pawn
& my television’s walked off—
Can’t say I mind
that girl’s gone
& that crackerjack ring wouldn’t
cut anything
but why take my Zenith
with the good reception
& leave the one
with sound alone?
I tried but God’s
still unlisted.
I don’t mind using
love letters for fire
but at least leave me
some whiskey
to fan it higher.
Order your air-
conditioned coffin today.
I’m sick of listening
to beauty
pageants, I can’t say
who wins. They keep on
rescheduling Armageddon
but only seats I can get
are in the nosebleed section.
Even Heaven
has evictions.
By accident
my obit ran early
& only the taxman
& that damn dog showed
to mourn me,
his bark’s mute trumpet
my only eulogy.
ISSUE: Winter 2004