Report from heaven's agent

Report from heaven's angel ? Alan Smith April 2003

swooshwooshwoosh. down deep within,
god's blood, and mine, mingling together;
he throbs, i listen.
so begins my divine mission
for i am heaven's agent.

heaven's agent reporting sir:
doors locked, tv and radio off,
tissues ready by the first floor bed.
lights off, curtains fully drawn,
chair at window, videocam set to go.
and here she comes now

clicklicklick!! promenading, weaving slinky circles
with tits and bum, hips and tum.
flirting the footpath, weaving the spell
school tie circling the waist, shirt buttons popped.
sucking a cigi the harlot from hell
sashays on home to the walkman's beat.

i watch her go inside the house next door,
derffderrfderrf!!! her devil music booms.
her lustroom bedroom show begins;
none can see her from the ground (i've checked).
the only view - is my one, from above.
of course she knows i'm here, she starts,
satan's tart bops a while,
then feigning hot, sheds uniform bits,
stretches, flaunts, taunts, in little girl's undies.

my neck throbs, my throat dries and aches,
hands twitch, hot palms itch, the bitch .
"she must be told it's time to change her ways;
go do it", said the lord, "the time is wasting."
my head is pounding more than i can take.

bumpty,bumpbump feet fly down stairs two at a time.
mission clear, up fists whamwhamwham the door.
kickkick crack, it gives, i spring inside,
shouting "hello, i've only come to talk."
not there, she's not there, just darkness,
and evil, i feel it, smell it.
and stumble on a scream
that will not stop; my hands are strong,
god tells me squeeze, then satan tries her tricks:
warmth and wetness, presses to my flesh,
nakedness against me , scent of sex;
the foul thing fights, but with god's help i'm stronger;
thump thump thump of fists against my back
die away to slapslapslap and finally stop.
exhausted now i close my eyes.

slamslamslam awakened by car doors;
i panic: we are naked, and there's blood.
rough hands lift me, shove me into the wall,
belt me all over, then they make me stare
at satan's rag doll harlot lying there

the men in blue shout foul words in my face;
the man in black gives 'life' bangbangbang.
the men in jeans and t-shirts grin at me;
drr drr drrr go mugs along cell bars;
i think i will enjoy my short stay here.

although they lock us up clangclangclangclang
the prisoners assault me nightly (silently).
call it heaven's agent's penance.