from this week in March, 2014 (I was 69)
More Postcards from Hell
Of course there is respite
The deepest agony requires contrast
Up there you got pals
Down here you got mals
No flint no matches no butane lighters
no Irish sermons
our brimstone is ever aflame
They like to say there is no hope here
but they cannot dispel the obvious
If there is a just god there is always hope
Graffitti tends to the positive
Message charred to a chimney:
There are no lackeys here
Up there seven deadly sins, here:
sloth? can’t be lazy with nothing to do
pride? not even in jest
lust? needs a hunger
anger? requires someone to blame
gluttony? you can only eat so much shit
covetousness? if you want what I got take it
envy? and you can keep whatever you are
Ask anyone here, “What did you do?”
Invariably they answer, “Not enough.”
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