Satan’s Reverie by Clark Cook

I have been maligned for millenia,
endless accusations sounding long
and mournful
through the lost centuries,
down the gilded corridors
of haughty rulers,
in the dark hovels
peopled by despair,
entirely on their own.

I’m handy, yes?
scapegoats are always
in fashion
and the image assigned–
red head
horns
spiked tail
pitchfork
oh! and my penchant for
breathng fire–
makes for scary stories
of evil and temptation
to frighten wayward chldren
around the tribal fires.

Quite boring, really.

I wish I were more
than the ghost
of your fear–
I wish I had substance
like a hanged witch,
twitching on her rope,
bug-eyes and black tongue.
When you are nothing
but a fraudulent name
and a disembodied
voice,
death-pain hissing
from a real body

has its appeal.

Of course,
you will not grant my wish,
my grim little fantasy.
You have granted me,
instead,
the curse of
eternal life,
forever enslaved
as long as men
walk this earth
and their homes have

mirrors.

###

 

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5 thoughts on “Satan’s Reverie by Clark Cook

  1. Pingback: The Greenwich Village Literary Review Fall 2014, Vol. I, No. 2 | The Greenwich Village Literary Review

  2. 10derm10

    Really enjoyed this, an excellent questioning of the nature of man and our desire to escape responsibility. It is nice for us to have an evil figure there who we can blame for our wrongdoings, rather than facing up to what we have done and accepting that it is us who have done it and that it is wrong. I found this poem pokes fun at the fallacy of such an ‘easy way out’. That Satan of the piece wishes he had substance, so do we. Without him, we are forced to look in the mirror and face the moral ambiguity of humankind.

    Like

    Reply

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