Since there are an infinite number of angels
Letting many of them go solved nothing;
There were still an infinite number left.
Nor was the problem of finding new work
For vaguely powerful spiritual beings
Skilled at delivering messages and praising
Easy to solve. St. Ursula, who had somehow
Survived the latest round of budget cuts
Along with all eleven thousand of her virgins
-- Each and every one of them a saint as well –
Set up internships. The Imp of the Perverse
Wound up with three angels shadowing him
Noting his methods, which made him nervous.
He found himself tempted to give good advice
To his clients, who had contracted for bad.
“We haven’t been good for you,” said Zafriel;
“Business is down since we came,” said Glaur
(Who had been a troll in a prior dispensation
But had been philosophical on finding himself
Winged and loudly singing Aramaic hymns in praise
Of a God in whom he did not fully believe).
“Yes, what do you need interns for?” said Blaufre
“You’ve managed forever on your own.
By far the wisest course would be to fire us.”
The Imp of the Perverse shook his head;
“Have you been paying no attention at all?”