Two for Satan
1
satan’s got fantastic breasts
the virgin mary stands tall and fresh
If I had the nerve I’d ask them both to dance
On the floor of my oven
But the club-footed polka has gone out of fashion
And I haven’t yet learned how to do
the cell-phone Rag
2
Dear Satan,
I want to dig a poem
That burns you deep enough
For you to bury
Your own poetry.
That’s all.
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