After following Dante
He froze in treachery
Maybe it’s Alaska—
Hell or New Jersey?
No longer does he roll
With little Jackie Paper
Yet glacial wax wings
Stock up Pale Fire
Infernos spew
From his chest chamber
Thus, Puff’s Fate
Full circle, he’ll stand alone
Flame throwing coughs
Iced after thoughts
Judas, Satan, gravity
Coming down too
Lost irony
