Don’t know what it was chimera flange wraith
Seeming under the knowing she had this look
Like a goddess in rehab or whore
Men are sensitive to these things
We pick it up like bloodhounds on the trail
So she stood trembling holding the rail
“I’m a little drunk,” she said
And I was like no shit sunshine you’re wasted
Took her under my feathered arm
With every good intention of fucking her stupid
She looks at me: “Who you trying to be? Cupid?”
“No darling,” I says, “Just another prick with a hardon”
“’Cept you’ve got wings,” she says and spoils the deal
So I have to fly her off for real saving the cab fare yeah
Get her home safely and hold her head while she spews in the dunny
Then she tries to mix drinks like what just happened was funny
We make small talk by the lava lamp till she’s snoring like a tramp
Then its into bed with her and I stand there breathing
Thinking do I take advantage of this angel while she’s sleeping
Thoughts of lower levels of hell swirling beneath my feet
But then the Devil is a guy I have always wanted to meet
Fuck it Hell’s too hot for cherubim
Our blubber would melt and our wings would singe
Better to stay fluttering above and aloof
So that when humans profess their love
There will be no absolute proof.
© shaun patrick green 2011
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