Gridlock
There was road rage and road kill
on each slippery stone
of the highway to Heaven -
and bumper to bumper,
drive-by hysterics
of mad, gridlocked souls.
Oh, the pushing and shoving
on the stairway to Heaven;
terrible cursing,
when soles stepped on fingers;
horrible screaming,
when the dearly departed fell off.
So, my love,
we won’t go there.
We’ll go deep down and dirty;
sniffing the sulphur, so close
to the pit, that our shadows
will fuck with the flames.