at parties, handles snakes
as though they were a knapsack
of fetid anthologies. Get
on your rat & find your way
to the cabal, ugly angel,
Astaroth, seller of books;
maker of deals. Just a sheep
in bat wings; was born that way.
Will put you on the all-infernal
panel. Oh Hell, you're nothing
like an antihero when you
claim that the Fall just happened
to you while you were busy
playing Parcheesi, minding
your own with three
of your beasties. When
you meet him, bring
a clothespin for your nose
to block his fetid odors.
Compliment his superpowers,
ask after his sister, clutch
the silver ring hidden
in your waistcoat
until you're free to leave.
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