Wednesday, January 20, 2010

A Poem After Ironing...

I'd like to say there are no wrinkles in Heaven,
But even St. Peter can't exorcise a crease.
No, no.
The robe of an angel or saint rising from knelt prayer
Will be just as wrinkled as if they'd done it on a
New Jersey turnpike.
No; there are still wrinkles in Heaven.
It's just that there, nobody cares.

Out

4 comments:

David said...

Can I please set this to music??

Viewtiful_Justin said...

Yes. Please do. Then let me see the results.

Bryan Ochalla said...

Oh, that's great :) I agree that it sounds like it could be a portion of a song's lyrics, BTW.

Argent said...

Definite song material - I like that conception of heaven.