The Devil’s Preacher

Troy Camplin
Apr 21 · 1 min read

My daddy was a preacher
With the Devil at his feet
A mostly sinful creature
Who no woman could defeat
He preached the Word, the pastor
Preaching Hell’s eternal fire
But he was not the master
Giving in to his desire
The Devil was his teacher
Filling him with lustful heat
Yes, my daddy was a preacher
With the Devil at his feet.

I’d spend my Sundays sitting
In the pew surrounded by
My brothers, sisters getting
Jesus in their hearts and cry
I never knew how many
Kids were my half-siblings there
I never dated any
Girls with green eyes and black hair
No girls beneath the bleacher
Tasting lips so sweet
’Cause Daddy was a preacher
With the Devil at his feet.

Now I’m grown up and preaching
Standing in my daddy’s place
I help my sheep, all reaching
Out for Jesus’ saving grace
My daddy was my teacher
All the women love to greet
Me as the brand-new preacher
With the Devil at his feet.

Originally published at http://troycamplinpoetry.blogspot.com.

Thyme and Time Again

An Anthology of Metamodern Poetry by Troy Camplin

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