The Devil and Mr. DeanesA Poem by David Lewis PagetMr.
Deanes climbed into the lift, Went
up to the fortieth floor, He’d
worked in the building for twenty years But
never been up there before, His
job at the Allied Insurance had been Part
of the round of cuts, Some
kid had taken over his desk, So
Mr. Deanes said - ‘Nuts!’ It
wasn’t as if he’d prospered there, He’d
started as Clerk, Class 1, Filling
out scads of rejection forms The
others had left undone, He’d
sat on a basic salary So
overtime was unpaid, And
Mr. Quim kept an eye on him From
the height of his glass lined cage. It
took ten years to become Clerk 2 And
the rise was a piddling one, Barely
enough to keep meat on the bones Of
a wife and a bone lazy son, He
wasn’t surprised when his wife had left For
some fellow she’d met at the church, When
his son succumbed to the drugs he’d bummed, Even
God left him in the lurch. So
when he came out on the fortieth floor Of
the tallest building in town, He
strode on out to the balcony And
wasn’t afraid, looking down. ‘How
bad can it be?’ he thought to himself As
he climbed up over the rail, ‘Just
thirty seconds of fear, and free!’ As
he balanced, ready to sail. He
raised his arms, looked up at the sky In
a moment of utter despair, ‘It
won’t be long and I’m done with it, With
the wind blowing through my hair.’ But
something caught at his collar then Said,
‘This is the time to choose! I’ll
give you all that a man could want, What
have you got to lose?’ He
climbed on down, and the man in black Held
a contract up to his face, ‘Better
to live like a millionaire Than
to die in an utter disgrace! Just
prick your finger and sign in blood Your
DNA makes it whole,’ ‘And
what will it cost,’ said Mr. Deanes, ‘At
the end, you give me your soul!’ Now
Mr. Deanes was a cautious man And
he read the form, each bit, ‘I’d
like to be given a sporting chance, Can
we make it double or quit?’ The
devil smiled in his cunning way And
he scribbled an extra line, ‘I’ll
tell you what, if you win the spin I’ll
even let you take mine!’ He
signed the form with a flourish then And
stood in a brand new suit, Travelled
on down in the lift again And
headed for Quim, to dispute. ‘There’s
been an error,’ said Mr. Quim, You’re
up on the seventh floor, I
hear they’ve taken you onto the Board, They
didn’t tell me before.’ It
was ‘How are you going, Mr. Deanes, May
I carry your coat and hat?’ The
phone would ring, and a king or queen Would
just pop by for a chat, His
chauffeur had a familiar air As
he stared from his seat in the back, He
couldn’t quite put his finger on it But
the chauffeur was dressed in black. He
spent his summers in Saint Tropez And
motored down to his yacht, He
took the wheel in the Fastnet Race With
a skill that he’d forgot, He
lazed around with the party crowd And
spent like a man obsessed, A
cute young dolly on either arm And
each with mammoth breasts. His
twenty years passed like a dream And
the day of reckoning came, A
man turned up in dark black suit, ‘It’s
time! Now ain’t it a shame?’ But
Mr. Deanes had a single spin With
a coin he kept in his fob, ‘I
get to call it, and I call heads,’ The
devil grinned, ‘let’s lob!’ The
coin spun high in the air and fell, Then
bounced a couple of times, The
smile was wiped from the devil’s face He
cursed with a word that rhymes. So
Mr. Deanes got the devil’s soul And
he feels it, deep in his loins, He’ll
never grow old, or so I’m told While
he holds the two-headed coin! David
Lewis Paget © 2013 David Lewis PagetReviews
|
StatsAuthor
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
first
prev
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing
