Meet the Devil

Please allow me to introduce myself… Won’t you guess my name? I’ve been around since Jesus Christ wore the thorny crown of shame. I’m a leader of men and a man of little blame. I’ve hobnobbed with celebrities… Yes, Ed Eisner still counts… Yes, Johnny Carson still counts. Sorry Jay Leno, but you’re not my number one. I listen to all the gossip that surrounds the stars from who sleeps with whom to who stole a role because of a pretty face. I listen to Pink Floyd, drink Dom Perignon, gamble at the Flamingo, like Caviar on Breton Crackers, and drive whatever seems to make me feel liberated.

I know what makes you tick and tock, although I don’t go both ways… But if you do, there’s little to no blame. I know all of you, every last mortal being to the point that I can predict what’s what and what will be next. I can find you even in the Outback of Australia, and the Gobi desert can’t hide your secrets. Dead men’s lips loosed on the plank can’t even find a way from my scourge. Watery graves: Oceans, lakes, rivers, and streams; They hide secrets that have no place amongst the world again, but I know… I know everything.

I can find the joint in a seamless shoe, a spot of blood on a hangman’s noose, the guitar pick used by Jimi Hendrix at his last concert, Hell, even Jimmy Hoffa. I can see the way through a sandstorm, to bigger, bigger, and towards better places. I can see the way to exit a crowd stampeding through a flaming building where the emergency lights have failed. You know I know what you know so go play a game of hide and seek… Some of you are always meek. Still you stand on the shoulders of Giants, and there is nowhere left to look.

When you find what was lost, when you seek what you’ve found, when you see through the trees, out to the other side… Then you shall know me. I’m lost without finding a hiding place… Dessert, Sea, Bare Arctic Ice, Glades and Glen, or another’s cave. I’ve found that I just stand in plain sight, right in front of you. Look to see but not with eyes… Use ears to hear, but I’m as quiet as mice… Feel with hands and I’ll slap your face. Next up it’s another blind date.

I dated all the models to come.. Tall, thin, and very grim… Smoking cigarettes. Ballerinas in their tutus dancing on the stage. I’ve seen the Playboy Mansion fall from Hugh’s high lofty place… Scandalous affairs are best left covered in ice… Models dating with secret lips, and places left for lost. I’ve found what I think is best just to see my face. Mirror-less reflexion is not what I see… Not a wrinkle in sight. Tall, dark, dashing and handsome I only were designer clothes… Always Armani, Gucci, or BOSS, and they’d better be wrinkle-free, stain-proof, and tear free, cause I need to look my best.

I think with forethought, not hindsight… I’m the bringer of the light, Lucifer the morning-star. I know all your wrongdoings and keep them in a little black book that I keep in my inside breast pocket. I’m older than time itself and have an ageless face. You must know by now that I have many names… Many more than the average mortal human… Some carry twenty or thirty at a time. Some of them are very popular, but you can always count on me to respond to the classic Lucifer. I’m a Devil in the flesh.

Published by Robert LT Jonasson

I have one novel being edited, 5 more flushed out, 56 short stories, and 530 poems. Please take the time to explore jonassonenigmaticnirvana.com and get to know me through my writing.

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