DIPLOMATIC RELATIONS WITH HELL

Who will be
Your Molotov
To front those
Screeching millions?

Beelzebub
Could do the task
Perhaps
Mephistopheles.

The burning oil
The crackling sounds
The burning flesh
The pain no bounds.

Your embassy
We'll wire it up
But whom to send
To meet your man?

A fork-tongued asp?
A braying ass?
Leave him alive
Is all I ask.
© 2007 by Michael J. Farrand


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