An Encounter with the Devil

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

I met the devil a good while back,

For ninety minutes or some length like that,

Beelzebub, Lucifer or old St. Nick,

Or whatever the hell you’re having yourself.

Staggering from sweat-palmed wall onto grimy floor,

Luckily, there, I spotted a clean sentence forming,

Just enough to outline the trouble within.

Aha, Satan, but here on the greasy tile,

I see the credentials of your undivinity,

A perfect imbalance of divine masculinity and divine femininity.

Symmetrically precise but inside out,

An unholy whole and yoke of a thing.

Aching for confused vessels to smuggle his cargo,

Seducing bounties traded for access to the heavenly sea.

While, far away on some devilish harbour,

His cunning smile begins to spread,

As heat-seeking missiles take aim at these foolish ships.

Soon to be speeding like subterranean comets

To torpedo the waves with his projectile vomits.

But, Himself creates on the filthiest floor while the devil cannot,

A point worth noting.

And minus the vessels Satan is but a play without plot.

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