Alice Brooks-Smith

Get the De-Icer

for my Guardian Angel's wings

tell her to get her
ethereal butt down here
where I am; whyn't she

and her
cherub-cupid fat little friends
buzz around my head awhile
like gnats
to confound
my stupid temporal

plots to satisfy my desires

say to her
bring some female
intuition, some wiles, some de-
vices for
my selflessish-defense; since

I am tempted, since I do have
the right to know:

the passion fruit is mine for the tasting

and I'm hungry; I'm so tired of
dieting
for
the Clerk at the Register
wants to ring my Order
he drums his fingers
upon the counter; and he's

tired of waiting, but I'm uncertain...

then why should I hesitate
why should I
fear succumbing?

because the devil is a man

...and so is God