Poetry / Regards to The Devil
Regards to The Devil
by Dean Imperial
The Devil and I are on speaking terms right now.
My promotion and vacation and dental benefits were demolished
Like one of those Taj-Mahal-like-structures in Las Vegas
That go down in one apocolyptic collapse.
The dust has settled, now,
So The Devil and I are going to sit down and have lunch today
And discuss my options.
He’s picking the restaurant;
somewhere in the West Village, not far from his home.
The girl I wined, dined, courted, supped, bowed to and fawned-on
Has left me for that machoistic other –
The Brute Force with the beautiful face, beedy animal eyes
And Irish brogue
that a bespeckled, sock-wearing Sophisticate
Like myself cannot compete with, so…
The Devil and I have made plans this afternoon
to renegotiate my contract.
He’s a persuasive fellow and – of course –
INSISTS on picking-up the tab.
He always picks the place;
This time a Moroccan joint about two flights down.
Whenever we’ve met, there’s barely anyone else in the restaurant.
Maybe a table of He-Shes or
A quadropalegic being fed with a straw.
The Devil likes it quiet
so he can thoroughly hear-out your pains and concerns…
How I’ve contorted myself, twisted myself,
Bent myself over backwards in order to accomodate
the wishes, values and expectations of others
How I’m through playing The Game.
How I’m through playing the Nice Guy Fiddle
for pennies…
I need a big contract,
A multi-year spread,
Endorsement deals, a company car and a revenge portfolio
OH! and the body of that babydoll
with the cupy-bow lips
that I always see on the bus;
with the fur hood and shag boots
who stares at me always and smiles
She has a wedding ring, but he can make it vanish
or disappear or lose it’s power.
He’s good like that.
He’s focused like that.
He delivers like that.
I’ve wanted her for a while and now I can have her!
The devil and I are on speaking terms again and it feels so goddamned good!
He was right all along and I owe him for that…
And I musn’t forget this time to compliment his hat.
‘cause I’m ready to sign on after a long hiatus
And I don’t feel bad.
Why should I?
I’m through being a square.
Because being a good soldier only gets you shot,
killed and boxed.
What’s an eternity in Hell if your in it already?
I’ll shovel coal.
I don’t give a fuck.
The lunch is always delicious, anyway.
The conversation always good.
I better make my way…
Shall I send him your regards?
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Great poem. Very funny. Its like a metaphor for returning to a “sinful” life after one of chaste. I especially like the lines
“Maybe a table of He-Shes or
A quadropeligic being fed with a straw”
It presents very absurd imagery which fits well with the poem.
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Please do – I had to review a bunch of stuff that really wasn’t very good before finding this little gem. There are a couple small errors here and there, but I won’t go over that – the only thing I can say bad about it is that I think you can give it a better ending. Something a little more humorous, more wry; and something that has more of a point. There’s got to be a joke in there somewhere about the conversation being good and being on speaking terms and all. Keep working on it, definitely curious to see the final product.
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