A Filthy Clean in My Poetry Slams

Heaven’s calling
Has angels falling
Trampled under the boots of
We, the Wicked

No time for shuteye
Just enough time for
Disruption
Distractions
From the real
Dilemma

Dirty hands wash dirty feet
While dirty eyes watch dirty fingers
Beat dirty ditties into dirty streets

Feeling the heat
Get out of your seat
Tonight is the night
We dance with the devil
Temptations abound
Morals will drown
When carnal desires
Beget carnal pleasures

Pure ears bleed
Pure voices cry
Pure thoughts shrivel
No longer purely innocent

We are the Wicked,
The most sick,
The most twisted.
We’ll laugh and play
As you kneel and pray
While we dance with the devil