Angels II
The damnedest thing
about angels:
They are always
in disguise
They creep
into your life
like thieves
They take
what you were
Leaving only
what you own
"And there's no defence
against angels,"
preached the derelict,
swigging repellant.
"No defence..."
Then
with a glance
into his future
through the genie bottle
in his hands
he added:
"...except booze..."
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Angels III
Grace visited us
too briefly
Then,
like water
finding its level
like quicksilver
finding its own
She...
A beggar showed up
at her funeral
The mourners clucked
about the gall
of the gauche
And shunted
the man away
I smiled.
Grace was back,
Her first trip
A failure
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Angels IV
No callouses, no cracks
No crucifixion marks
on his hands
A whore on lease
to moneyless hordes
A whore at least
to pitiless lords
His passion a pose
at political parties
Witless witness
of wine and weed
The limousine liberal
fighting a war
of libation.
But must we see
spin doctors
To spot a poxed truth?
Forget the ghouls and gossips
The rest of us prefer
all the hypocrisy
of angels
to the sincerity
of demons.
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