Calling Card Reverend

A visit from a clergyman

Calling card reverend

 comes to my door

 

Save me from sins

of the sick and the poor

 

Hunched over black cloak

 snakes in his hand

 

Testifies in the traffic

spits fire brand

 

scares off the children

prays to the dead

 

Ravens and buzzards

circle over his head

 

One eye is staring

into your soul

 

the other's a

rotting festering hole

 

Calling card reverend

won't you come in

 

He takes a big wiff and says

I smell the sin

 

Limps through the door

Gangrenous stench fills the room

 

My skin wants to crawl

back into the womb

 

He sits on my sofa

my nose draining snot

 

From the stench of the fabric

that starting to rot

 

 Pulls out the good book

and a bottle of gin

 

says boy I'm gonna clense you

of all of your sins

 

Calling card reverend

is this really the end

 

Will I ever party

with hookers again

 

He says boy your soul

has been taken by Satan

 

your lost sinful ways

I'm gonna straighten

 

Takes a long drink

on the bottle of gin

 

His one eye on me

He says let us begin

 

Smash goes the bottle

upside my head

 

Knocked to the floor

I thought I was dead

 

Calling card reverend

He gave me VD

 

Stole my stereo

and big screen TV

 

Went through my wallet

Cash and cards gone

 

Maybe you think

he was running a con

 

I Haven't wollowed in

decadence for such a long time

 

You need lots of green

for the hottest girl's time

 

THe good reverend cured me

I'm no longer a letch

 

I aint got the money

for sins of the flesh

 

 

 

Author's Note

There's one true line in this poem

Reviews

[Baby Ricochet]

Well, most of it's not true. It's more along the lines of "throwing pennies at Alligators" than it is "After the home coming." Just me expressing my silly dark humor. Thanx...

[nigrum homonculus]

haha this is great. the irony at the end was genius and you told a really good and somewhat funny story. i hope this ain't true though. never knew reverends do that kind of s**t.

btw
Hunched over black cloak
snakes in his hand

Testifies in the traffic
spits fire brand

those2 stanzas are epic. keep it up!

[Baby Ricochet]

thanx