A righteous martyr, a generous beast,
a handsome devil with pitchforks for eyes
and embers for fingers.

You go to hell
and turn down your bed
even though you never sleep.

I blame your mouth
and your homicidal kindness
for driving me merry-go-round mad,

filling me with bile jealousy
at seeing all the rotting corpses
with rings on their fingers.

11/17/2011

Posted on 11/17/2011
Copyright © 2024 Meghan Helmich