Tuesday, April 29, 2014

The Afterlife

I'm not sure if there is a
Day of Final Judgement
For humans when we die. 

A gleaming golden set of pearly gates
Beset by clouds
A grey-haired saint Peter
Thinning a little at the top
Clean trimmed salt and pepper beard
Wearing his white graduation gown.
Standing at his gilded lectern
Peering at those to be judged
Over half-moon reading glasses
Affixed to his neck with a glimmering chain.
His hands resting on an open book
A catalogue of the accumulated good and bad deeds.

I hope against all hope
That final ledger contains
A column titled:
"Parental sportsmanship at little league games"
Because if I had my way,
The dude settling next to me who just 

REVELED

In the joy of a nine year old striking out,
Should roast on a spit
In the great Showtime Rotisserie Of Eternity.
Even if he saves some kids from a burning orphanage a few years from now. 


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