Perfidious behavior
has been reported to me
that I can put an end to
with the blink
of my one good eye.
When evil runs rampant,
I can spew lightening fire
and mountains leap.
When toxic spirits
are on the loose—
with no air to breathe,
or pure water to drink
or good food to eat,
and poison ivy covers
the cancerous land,
and incest and patricide
and limp dicks weep,
and there is war
after war after war
with nobody writing
decent poems anymore
since Milton’s “Paradise Lost.”
It’s time for me to return.