Smoked Sausage in the Devil’s Belly

13 fingers
13 toes

covered in soot
they ain’t complaining

highs and lows
come and go

don’t piss on my foot
then tell Him it’s raining

. . .

tricked Van Winkle sleeping
in the dirty chimney
of a space for rent
made of milk white skin

26 digits
smoked to sausage
the devil smiled
came on in

cut of the extra pieces
made herself a plate
then she had to go
said she had a date

. . .

now i bleed me
down to sleep
to whom it will concern

look at my hands
look at my feet
ask me what i’ve learned




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