He walk with much effort
The days are mean to him, in his thoughts
"I bothered of things, humans don't"
And are these things that bottomed him
Undressed him of his wings
"Give me a beer"
THEY STARED
"This little ring on my head?"
and off it goes
"Now a cigar would be nice"
THEY STARED EVEN MORE
Slowly he sat
One hand a beer, another a cigar
and soon, he of an angel with two horns
Oh.., stop being such a saint,
in his thoughts
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Osh 5/5/00