From pinnacle to debacle
might be a great fall
but possibly short-lived.
Sultry shady satin-smooth super Mario brothers Satan
can attest to this,
sent down to the PIT
for daring to be top-dog material.
Hu-Hu-Hubris! sings the angelic choir
Only room for one God up in this bitch!
Is how the story goes.
(And maybe this angelic choir is like a hip-hop group,
a cappella)

But the Pit with all its drawbacks
sulfur fumes, everlasting fire, sleazy slimy demons etc.
is not without its attractions,
which is why Milton made Lucifer
the star of the show – top billing,
a five-pointed pentagram, get it?
Lu-Lu-Lucifer, he the man
is what the demons sing.
(And maybe they are like a late 1990s boy band)

All religion aside (kidding too, maybe)
we are all angels and demons
all of us on this rickety old bus
heading down the road
like some Johnny Cash tune
headed for the state pen
the state of being bent
the stat of staying numb
to the hurts of living.

Lucifer got it right maybe
if you think about it
trading the smarmy glory of blue heaven
for the sexy slutty burn of hellfire.
The evangelicals shake in their skin to hear that
while secretly they give in to the temptation
and indulge in private where no one sees.
But their cyclopic God witnesseth all
and eventually the confessions must come:
pinnacle and debacle
how the mighty have fallen
tearful and repentant before the television cameras
fodder for TikTok YouTube and Instagram.

Yo, Milton!
How could we lose paradise
if we ain’t never FOUND it!!??


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