I'm not exactly in a hurry
Satan says and Wormwood
The novice angels stare back
From across the lake at them
Where their bright armies hide
Alert for the next right wave
Let's have breakfast first together
Down on the beach in the breeze
Comb through our treaties
The ones we'll keep and leave
Let our great general the sun
Tell us again the stories
Of when we were young and laughed
Off our quarrels by day's end
No comments:
Post a Comment