032021b

 

 Armageddon at the Pearly Gates

A flash, a bang,

line stretching 

all the way back to Earth,

Served today: 7.4 billion

(including unbelievers)*

*Universalist administration at just the wrong time

072319b

mouth off in heaven
and you plunge right through the clouds
lead parachute

051219c

The Ascent of Cat

only some cats make it to Heaven

their exclusive clubhouse

is a dark place for the non-feline

sure, there are sunbeams to stretch out in,

plazas full of lolling cats

human servants stroke their bellies

exercise leashed mice & voles

clean & rake the litter gardens

but when darkness rises

it does so frequently

the land becomes a catutopia of prey

liquesent forms, more claw than limb

end the lives of squeaking things

again and yet again

and if there is a dawn

a dusk is close behind

041319

The Ascent of Cat

only some cats make it to Heaven

their exclusive clubhouse

is a dark place for the non-feline

sure, there are sunbeams to stretch out in,

plazas full of lolling cats

human servants stroke their bellies

exercise leashed mice & voles

clean & rake the litter gardens

but when darkness rises

it does so frequently

the land becomes a catutopia of prey

liquesent forms, more claw than limb

end the lives of squeaking things

again and yet again

and if there is a dawn

a dusk is close behind

073017b

Mr. Smith Makes A Complaint

"I want to make a complaint."

The being behind the counter, white robed, wingéd, and possessed of an unearthly beauty, looked puzzled. It cleared its throat. "I don't think I've ever gotten one of those."

I rolled my eyes. "You must be new here." Very new, I silently added.

The celestial being looked around, perhaps hoping to find someone else to deal with me, but no one was there. "May I help you?" it asked. "Mr....?"

"Smith. I think entropy has come to the afterlife."

"Entropy? But that implies progressive, irreversible degradation. It's just not possible here, what with this place existing outside of time and all." It smiled reassuringly. Immaculate wings fluttered and a couple of disarranged feathers settled back into place.

I scratched my head. "That's what I thought. I've been here a while (not sure exactly how long) and at first stasis seemed to prevail."

"Go on," it encouraged.

I had been standing in line at the celestial cafeteria, trying to decide between heavenly ham and a simple fried egg, when I suddenly wondered why there was a line at all. I mean, every other time I went to eat, I encountered only those people I wanted to meet, and we never had to wait. But this morning, the line had stretched from the heavenly serving area, through a lobby of unparalleled symmetry, and out doors of surpassing loveliness into a meadow of unmatched beauty. A murmur had arisen, and as I craned my neck to see what was going on up ahead, I saw many others doing the same. In the end, I had to settle for cold pizza, which makes an excellent breakfast, but wasn't what I wanted.

I later heard that no one had shown up to serve, which was why only leftovers were available. Not the level of competence I had come to expect, frankly. Which was why I decided to register a complaint.

After I finished the story the attendant did not respond. I waved my hand in front of its face, cleared my throat loudly several times. Nothing. Finally, I reached forward and lightly tapped it on the shoulder. It toppled over backward and plummeted through the cloud like a brick through rice pudding.

"Aaaaa!!"

I jumped back, tripped, and almost fell myself. Maybe all this time I'd been wrong about where I'd ended up. Maybe today's events were the next step in an extraordinarily subtle form of torment. Wherever this was, I needed to get out.

Publ. Daily Cabal

011317

what do you call a daily calendar of dumb jokes
in heaven, year after year,
all different but all the same?
holy crap!
how many angels does it take
to screw in a lightbulb?
what do you call 69 angels
crammed into a phone booth?
(they still have those in heaven?)
what did Helen Keller say to...
ENOUGH!
You can all go to
wait, can you?

070416b

And Having Writ

The First Digit scribes names upon a Page,

By each the sigils: birth and death,

What do they look like? No one knows,

There are no cameras in heaven.

Photograph God? it's just not done,

Hubble has been on the case for years,

Has found neither Hide nor Hair,

Nothing.

Each of us must wait to see

How all of us, disparate men and women

Could have been made in His image.

feeling toasty yet?

We won't be cold again

as the wires before me and behind me
start to glow brighter red
and I feel myself almost ready
to shoot right out the top of
Nick's toaster
I wonder if I would have been
as comfortable upstairs
and I kind of doubt it

Gnu flash

The afterlife rears its ugly head http://www.dailycabal.com/2010/04/mr-smith-makes-a-complaint/