There’s a great beast that lives in the woods behind Coach’s house
And when he tries to sleep
Moon full in the sky
He hears it huffing and huffing
It’s great legs slow to move
As it drags it’s distended belly along the ground
And begs for death.

When coach awakes
And walks into his backyard
To water his herb garden
And think about calling his Mom
The smell of the thing hangs in the air
Rotten and sweet
Honey and flies
So he does not water his herbs for long.

And when he returns from the job
Where the other men clap each other on the back
And cough without covering their mouths
He finds a great trail of slobber wandering through his yard
And the herbs drowned in it.

And when the weekend rolls around
And the coughing men are all bedridden
Coach makes a lovely soup
Seasoned with the herbs from his garden
And brings it to each man’s house
And they thank him for it
Like they always do
And they eat of it greedily

When Heaven shines gifts down on us
It is not our place judge their use.