Satan thinks he’s home. Stay strong.

Satan is the brotherhood

Without brotherhood.

People think

Satan is a mythical beast

With stank ass doom breath, breathing hot garbage fire

And laughing rapaciously as he

Plucks your eyes out, while you eye hustle the truth.

A comic book ghoulie

With skin problems, he is not…

More like a smallpox blanket

Deep fried in weak coffee as La Migra super pokes your wall with a moniker like Hitchhiker Hater.

Satan is the bland smile of the cashier at the bank

When she tells you you’re overdrawn

When every part of your body hurts like injustice and you’re only 26

When the miles you’ve logged start showing up in the way you laugh at a first date’s joke—c’mon…

Satan is the way you count your change as your soul changes the dial

On the shower nozzle

Satan is the kind of hope that gets pinned on a tattered lottery ticket into Charter School fads

and the kind of cough that won’t go away

Unilaterally, diving off of a splintered platform of smiles.

I’d show you Satan, the raw beast of America

That horrifies the wilderness of musky cities

In the brilliant emptiness of our thousand year beliefs.

I’d introduce you to Satan as

He waits for ten children to grow up and work

Dying for a 5-dollar raise

In the expensive non-profit ride of our pixelated ambitions

Cracked in the sky of downtown scrapers

Too proud to belong to the community.

Satan is waiting for your welfare check,

for your lunch,

for your favorite I -Tunes hype joint,

and the after hour janitor whose son is a straight A student — for him too.

Born to sweep, dying through our core like a putrid Hero Sandwich in the People’s Mouth, Satan is simply a sacred phrase represented by the make-believe bedrooms that keep you safely home at night.

But like a Devil’s Fart….he too shall pass.