POGO STICK
 

You were born a jackhammer
until some Voodoo woman
put a spell on you.
Now,  youíre a walking Apocalypse,
a control rod with pedals.

You remind me of Satanís cursed cane,
a crippled metal crutch
limping on one leg,
stomping through the Aryan air
like Plathís Nazi father
with his big black shoe.