Half Drunk Muse Poetry


The Devil’s Peddler by Morgan Aine

What commission does the devil pay you for selling souls?

Do you get icy waters or luxury a/c?
Maybe a mini vacation in Alaska as a bonus?
How about cool caressing wind across your face
or spring showers in August afternoon?
Maybe your photo hanging on the hall wall
next to the wicked one?

Salesman of souls is your job here
fits You to a T
your duties clearly defined…
spelled out in red CAPITAL letters and signed in blood.

The devil’s peddler, you are!
Door to door sales
ringing bells of the rich and famous
Selling tickets to hell at double prices
after standing in mile long lines.

People beating down the doors for admission
trampling each other to get in
The announcer speaks and a heavy hush falls over the crowd.
Welcome One and Welcome All, Freakish, whores, All the oddballs.
See the show ~ Be the show. You are.

View bio for Morgan Aine Published in All Poems 1999-2004

About HDM

Half Drunk Muse was one of the first poetry ezines. It was founded in 1999 and ceased publication in 2006.

Questions/comments? Email samiller@halfdrunkmuse.com.