Ditching the Baby Angel (by Mark Nielsen, 9/26/13)
Get that dopey, cutesy little cherub
out of my holy grotto.
Assyrian pagan myths and Precious Moments figurines
have no place here.
For an angel was, is, and ever shall be
a fully-formed, grown-ass manlike thing
(or womanlike, if you’d like),
a mature soldier of mercy,
belched from the gut of Yahweh Sabaoth.
This innocent toddler, meanwhile,
cannot even lift the sword
needed to guard this essential gate.
But the bees and sparrows
don’t seem to mind him
(her? it? Feh, I don’t know!),
nor does the grotto’s main Tenant.
So who am I to say?
Maybe she belongs here as much as me,
chocolate-faced, half-angel, beautiful
sinner that I am.