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An angel drunk on whiskey
glows red and clumsily
thumps through my bedroom window
'Sweetheart,' she chuckles
'My name is Abigail
and I came from God . . .
or God sent me here.'
She hiccuped.
'What do you want?'
I asked as
I closed my poison eyelids.
That red glow was like
a blood-drenched headlight.
Seeing red.
'I just wanted to say
you're an alright kid,
but you might not get
into heaven unless
you straighten up a bit y'know
express your feelings a little more
God likes courage
dress a little sharper
the body is the temple of your mind
... y'know? Stuff like that.'
she hiccuped.
'Ok,' I said 'But could you
put on something? That glow is
really hurting my eyes.'
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i've still got a smile on my face after reading an angel drunk on whiskey. nice idea, nice imagery. i also got a chuckle from the last stanza, i would be naughtier with the last line. maybe even cut it completely.
I enjoyed reading your poem and got a nice chuckle out of your closing stanza. You do need to pay a little closer to your punctuation in the third stanza though.
