The Whore of Babylon (to the tune of Battle Hymn of the Republic), by Kell Hicks

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Whore,

Shit-faced on twist-top wine She lifted from a truck-stop store,

She hath sheathed Her tenth sword of the day, although Her pussy’s sore,

Her cooch is marching on.

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya!

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Her cooch is marching on.

I have seen Her take a dick in every orifice that’s damp;

She’s unloaded more cum than She’s taken on Her rose tramp stamp;

She was with me once; She rode me laughing ‘til we both got cramps;

Her ‘tang is marching on.

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya!

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Her ‘tang is marching on.

I have licked all on a fiery bush until its floodgates spilled;

As I ate Her, She did slob the knob with superhuman skill;

Let this Hero, let this woman drink until She’s drunk her fill;

Since She’s got Her bone on.

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya!

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Since She’s got Her bone on.

She has sounded, “I’m a strumpet, gimme all your rigid meat!”

She is sifting out the hearts of men before Her judgment seat;

Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Her! Be jubilant, my feet!

Our God is marching on.

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya!

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Our God is marching on.

With the beauty of a lily She was born to shoot her skeet;

With a glory in Her bosom that transfigures you and me;

As She lives to fill her holes, let us deliver what She needs;

When She’s got a bone on.

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya!

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! When She’s got a bone on.

She is coming like the glory of the dawn upon the waves;

She has pissed upon the mighty, She has pegged the ass most brave;

So the world shall eat Her stools, and horny souls shall be Her slaves;

Our Whore is marching on.

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya!

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Our Whore is marching on.

Statement from the artiste: I claim no copyright to this beauty. If any singer-songwriter (Screentime, I gesture in your general direction), country band (looking at you, Hiram, you gorgeous motherfuckers), or rapper (Kod3x, I see you, and I wink) wants to turn this into song, have at it. You won't get any Cease-&-Desists from me.

Drunk notes to KH — an exercise in self restraint, by China

Day 1

My uncle ran over a drunk guy’s foot on the way to the river. My mom has said this guy is black at least a million times.

You should be proud that I did not text any men I’ve slept with to receive attention and only redownloaded bumble for less than a minute. When did I become an attention-seeking whore? And when does that become a bad thing?

Also, I love you.

Cork carrot is the Charlotte equivalent of Aurora bread rock.

My dad bought a wine called “Poppy” so he could say we’re having Poppy for thanksgiving dinner.

“Cooking is hard because you have to stand up a lot,” said Amelia. “Although i have gotten better at standing.”

“Do you want to hear some tweets I’ve drafted,” said Ameila.

“Alright, I found the onions, but they’re just not what I expected.” — Ernie Anderson

Day 2

Dream KH cheated on Rebecca at a party, so I texted you about what I saw very angry, and Dream KH just texted back a lot of sexually explicit emojis. I became even more angry.

My cousin Michael is now Madeline.

My dads gout is so severe after Thanksgiving dinner, and I’ve never seen him in so much pain.

Day 3

White young professional drinking hard cider at windy hill: “we’re moderate, we’re like not loyal to any party”

Day 4
Got an email about your GoodReads updates, an account which I forgot I had. I’ve gone back to it and hope it’ll help motivate me to read more. Also, I miss you, though the impulse to text you every detail fades just a little bit everyday. Instead, I’ve had more time to reach out to other friends. I forgot I had so many.

Day 5
Read the best science communication sentence ever about the earth’s mantle: “part of the mantel is viscoelastic, meaning it’s goopy.”

Day 6

I had a nightmare that Rebecca was ugly and also very mean to me.

The town manager and clerk have designated me as the “secret keeper.” For some reason I’ve been trusted with all town secrets.

Chance sat outside my room while I was gone because he missed me

Still a love addict.

You win. I’m not getting you a gift.