"Blessed are the bold confessors"
My throat chakra--it is brilliantly blocked
By a wing-clipped demonic flock
Of the proudly fallen, yet my intent is to get on the horn,
Wearing my sports bra and frightening myself, reading: Children of the Corn.
Look, a corn cob pipe is sincerely nice,
And devouring sweet butter spinach is anti-oxidants twice;
Therefore, I guard my virtue from a villain's intent,
Gelling with folk paying God-fearing rent;
Alas, I may not grossly squirt bacteria or climax like over-spread sorority girls,
But I will charm entrance into sublime Otherworlds,
Laying in varying colors radiating from the spirited Sun,
And I drink cold beer; plus, put mayonnaise and flax seed on my hamburger bun.
