Double Entendre, or Fester Fuddle’s Satanic Canticle

Pastor Fuddle’s sermon

is Everything not of God

is of the Devil.

He cries that Christ

did not compose

Hey Jude—ascribes it Lucifer/McCartney. 

Everyone bought the line

“it’s for Julian”—

ignoring Treblinka’s

yellow stars. The debt they owed

for spurning their Messiah.

Or some misplaced 

sympathy for Judas. I think who

is to say what’s worthy

of symphony? A 30-piece

orchestra?

Stairway to Heaven

was headed the wrong

direction, he spouts with

fist-on-pulpit, damning the

flotsam from the pit of Hell.

Plant will stay there planted—

for all eternity.

In the obligatory

handshake line,

I tell him he’s the funniest

piece of turd

I’ve ever heard, trusting he’ll

find the rhyme

straight outta Sheol.

Poets will be the

first to fry, he howls to the

vaulted ceiling,

especially my belovѐd

Ginsberg, the Jew who knew

too much—of man, of sin,

of cocks which rise three

times before the dawn.

Andreas Gripp

December 6, 2025

Andreas Gripp