in the dark museum
taking the form of a little dragon
burnt black, square-headed, crouching
doggish at the angel’s feet
the devil is so ugly-cute
you want to take him home
give him a cushion
a little plaid blanket
don’t you always make that mistake—
what looked harmless
enters the house
begins to swell and smoke
inhales all the oxygen
for one fiery whooomp
and there you are
a charred remnant
in a scorched doorway
and now you can believe
he’d make war in heaven
gnaw the thrones
swat a cherub like a bug
