Reflections from Below

The gods cried
when he stole
Fire! Fire!

 “That was cool,”
Thought the man
With the three-headed dog
As he laughed
The dry, harsh laugh
Of the toothy undead.

 As he reflected
Upon his fall,
That was more painful
Than the screams
Of 6,000,000 Jews.

God, what he would give
To be in His good graces again
Instead of wallowing
With the pillagers of villages,
The killers of Jews and countrymen,
The rapers of women.

To be loved by anyone,
Even the apple-stealing whore
Who allowed him
To slither his serpent
Up her thighs,

Causing her to propagate
The eventual atrocities
In Russia,
In Germany,
In Cambodia.

Which gave him the ability
To be very efficient
At his work.

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I wrote this for a Creative Writing class I took. This was a fun one.

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