Snarkstitutes! The Poltergeist, the Qareen & the Roc

Beasts -- slews! -- I've bled (from few I've fled)
down days since bread's been sliced. 
Still, bless my soul, my best damn role..?
Oppress the poltergeist.

(Loud noise you hear by night...? I fear

'tis poltergeists, by Christ!) 

That God is great I'll not negate;

my dogmal slate is clean.

And still my quest's to quash, sans rest, 

the Qabalah's qareen.

(Great care I'll take, for heaven's sake:

you ne'er know where it's been.) 

Dad hunted gnu. His runts did, too,

like chips off olden blocks.

Those days...? Long gone. Fresh crises spawn 

my raids upon twin rocs:

The female swipes Pa's corncob pipes; 

the male Ma's mincemeat mocks.