I am a hero, listen to my prayer

you beautiful maidens of the underwear world

take me to Valhalla, and not to that other place.

This is more than a prayer

This is a song I sing in silence

each night.

With one chance to live

let me fight

like a man, who will die at midnight.

It is not enough, to have one good wife

one good car

one good job

I want to be a rockstar.



to more Ladders.

No Ladders, please.

I don’t want to climb any more.

I don’t want to be grateful, humble, or nice.

I want Red Devil Women

in cheerleading décor.

I don’t want to pay their pimp, the devil, anymore.

I want to beat him at his own game.

It’s not enough to live forever

One must be young forever

It’s not enough to be the captain of the football team

One must put a spell on the cheerleading team

I am a silver-tongued devil

Make me platinum.

What I like about words

is there is no limit to what they can say.

Philosophers believe our thinking is limited because of language

but that’s not true.

Our thinking is limited because of what we don’t do—

what we settle for and what we believe is true.

This prayer might be the flitting thoughts of a frustrated man

but it’s honest.

It took almost half of my life

to want miracles.

Getting there, without them

is tiring.

Any leader who has responsibility

wants their burden to be lifted.

I want charisma,

that makes me lighter than air.

I don’t want to be contained,

like a useful piston

in a big machine.

I want flight

No engines, please—

like the women of the night, that usher me into Valhalla

like angels that call my name

at midnight.

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