deepundergroundpoetry.com

In Hell

Everyone has frosted tips
And salmon shorts
And short fuses on account of their favorite College basketball team
Blowing it at the last minute
Costing them 50 whole dollars
 
These ill tempered mutants order fancy microbrews  
The hoppier the better
And gossip about other, slightly shorter douches
Who are not present to defend themselves
 
They approach “the band” in the corner,
Some disgruntled fuck with a loop station,
And ask him to play Mumford and Sons
But don’t bother noticing when he obliges  
And strums out an extra pitchy rendition of The Cave
His terrible voice melding with the rerun of Always Sunny In Philadelphia  
That is playing on the barroom tv screen
 
A row of future surgeons, downing Irish Car Bombs, reminiscing about last Thursday, and gawking at the two women in the corner hoping to score cocaine off a horny meat head
 
Then Jermaine walks in
And he fucks everyone in the building from behind
Humming Avi Satani
As he cums deep inside them
Smiles, Bows  
And let’s himself out the back  
Written by Jermainesplain
Published
Author's Note
Revelation
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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