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Sacrilegious Awakening
(A companion piece to "Religious Awakening")

By Morris Kurzman

One night I dreamed I encountered a man who had two tiny horns on his head.
At first I suspected he had a great tan, then I saw that his skin was bright red.
His shoulder was decked with a very plump cat that was covered all over with puce fur.
It stood up and glared at me, hissed and then spat-- I was sure that it's master was Luc'fer.
He stood quite erect, like a noble lord ought,
A-brimming with arrogance, ego, and haught--
And an aura of menace (or so I first thought).

He uttered my name in an icicle pitch and began this entrancing oration:
"My darling young lad, pray do you know which is the best place to go on vacation?
It isn't in heaven, though God would suggest it, 'cause there you can't diddle the ladies.
But women are loose, not a man could contest it, in wild and wonderful Hades!
Fabulous orgies are always occurin'
The streets flow with wine, and with beer, and with urine! (if that's what you're into)
And also, we've got 26 shrouds of Turin.

If that's not enough to entice you to join us, we've also got wise men galore.
It's true, we got gyped and lost Thomas Aquinas, but really-- old Tommy's a bore.
A few seasons back, though, we did pick up Nietchze, 'cause God and he didn't... mesh well.
Just ask him, he'll tell you that life is quite peachy in nifty fantastical Hell.
Our membership truly is very exclusive.
We've got lots of kings, and kings are elusive,
Like Louis of France: II through VII-- inclusive!"

I stifled a grin as I took a step back and began to compose my reply,
But ere I could speak, he resumed his attack: "Do you like aluminum gly?
Or sodium sorbate, or things of that ilk? You'll find them all over in heaven.
But where I am from, things are all made of silk! (And a dash of bichromium 7)
So come join our revels, my darling young boy!
C'mon, be a sport-- I know you'll enjoy!
We're having a luau, and I've brought... THE POI!!!

I said in response, "Oh my dear Mr. Satan, I think that I might have to pass.
All that I need is potatoes au gratin, and a guy with a really nice ass.
That's all it takes and not anything more to ensure that my life remains happy,
And so, I'm afraid your entreaty's a bore-- and it's also excessively sappy.
Hell's not for me, though you make it sound... keen...
Though I'd gladly subscribe to your news magazine.
Now, run back to Hades. Say "Hi" to the queen!"

 

On hearing my words, Satan started to growl, and he took on a visage of malice.
He said, "Not since talking to Malcolm McDowell have I met with a mortal so callous.
You've spurred all my offers, and that isn't nice. These words I just can't be believing!
No, don't try and stop me. I'm gone in a trice. You're mean. I don't like. I'm leaving!"
With that, Satan started to stroke his grey beard,
And mumble a language both foreign and weird,
And in puffs of dark smoke, he at once disappeared.


Morris Kurzman (kmk8805@is4.nyu.edu), a student playwright at New York University, is back.


©1997 Oasis Magazine. All Rights Reserved.