Villanelle: All Your Sins

Why are you hiding, what is there to hide?

Your evil past? Your schlong?—
all your sins along for the ride.

You took the summer wind to be your bride,
your whole life just a song.
So why now? What is there to hide?

With only yourself alone to confide
in, speak right or speak wrong,
and all your sins along for the ride,

it’ll be like watching trains collide,
sparks as from a bellows blown,
blasting all you have to hide—

when you stole that gum in that drug store, Clyde—
better get your lawyer on the phone
and tell ‘em each disgraceful ride,

Satan driving, you shotgun on the side,
the pleasure yours, my friend, and yours alone.
Why are you hiding, what is there to hide,
all your sins along for the ride?