Can’t Feel at Home

Strange thing–thinkz Pou–don’t feel at home here anymore.

“This world,” sez the devil, “aint really your home.”

“Thought it was,” sez Pou.

“You got another one.”

Pou swallows hard and stares out the window, wondering. “Pop,” he sez, “where was I really born?”

“You waz born out of a snake-woman I met on another planet, Pou,” sez the devil, a bit tender-like.

* * *
“There’s a picture of your mom, son,” the devil sez a couple of days later.

Pou looks, and it’s Nina Hagen. “What! That’s Nina Hagen!”

“Don’t tell me what I already know.”

“I thought I was from another pla–”

The devil, he jest nod slow-like.

“But she was baptized in a Reformed church!” Pou screeches, freaking out. “She believes in Lordship Salvation!”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” sez the devil. Things sometimes happen to him he don’t rightly anticipate, and I reckon this was one of those moments. “Don’t she say ‘pick up the receiver, he’ll make you a believer’?”

Pou breathes a sigh of relief. “I reckon you’re right. Sounds jest like something Spurgeon used to say.”

“Sure I’m right,” sez the devil. “Now son, you need a long hiatus here. Been doing too much. Why don’t you go on a fishing trip or something, eh?”

“Can I go to another . . . you know–”

“Another planet?”

Pou nods, fingering his collar.

“Sure, that’s no problem. How about Kholob? Ever been there? Make you feel right at home, it will.”

“Why? And what about the blog?”

“Run an archival series; that’s always nice. As to why, why because it is 100 per cent Americun, made in the USA by a guy called Joe, how you like that?”

And the frog, he laugh.


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