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One morning, with nothing better to do,
I dropped-by Dante’s apartment in hell.
As we made our way down the avenue
Said he: “Since you’re here, have the tour as well.”
I asked of him: “How’d you land this gig?”
As along the banks of the Styx we trod.
“How’d you end-up in the fiery brig?”
Said he: “There’s no harsher critic then God.”
I laughed my ass off, I couldn’t help it,
He shot a look more acid then honey.
I said: “Oh don’t get yourself in a snit,
You have to admit, the big guy’s funny.”
Laughing, in spite of himself, he says:
“Just wait ‘till you meet Richard Ramirez.”


                                   * * *


One Response

  1. This is a very clever sonnet.

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