CelticLion-The Pornographer's Hyena Dies In a Loveless Lair « Loom «
Devil Island

I can't pray to God November
through March
because someone told me
He spends His winters
on an island He owns-
swilling the sweat of umbrella-ed angels,
unheard prayers salting the blue rims
of margaritas made especially
for the Devil's tongue (when he comes)
descending like a jetlagged dog
demanding a room overlooking the sea
and a sacred sunburn.
He can't hear me.
I love this, the visual is fantastic.-
---- Life is what happens while you wait for great things.
Thank you very much, Shan. Do you mean the visual, as in the imagery in the poem or the pic? I've never put pics with my poems before now and I'm not sure how it's coming across. Maybe it's cheesy. I don't know. It's fun and a distraction from being sick. Thanks for your review...C
I think this is a cool write with or with out the picture.
I'd like to be Gods travel companion...I'd make a great beach bum;)
Thanks, Jen. But see, you can't be God's travel companion cuz he already has one- and I'm pretty sure the devil keeps him very busy...lol...c
I definately meant the imagery of your words, although I liked the picture as well, I think your words stand out without it.
----- Life is what happens while you wait for great things.
Whew. Glad it was my words but I'd understand if it was the pic. I'm a sucker for vintage ads and images of all kinds. Actually I love old stuff, period. Except old food. Old bathwater. Old toliets. You get my drift, though I actually do not possess a drift. I have been adrift on many occassions. There might be a weird poem in that. I'm gonna go write now...C
The title attracted me to this poem and it was a great poem! Irreverant and humorous. I bet God makes the best Margaritas!
Yes, but does he give sacred sunburns
? Thanks for reading!...C