i've walked among enough graves
  with my grandfather,
enthralled in conversation -
among the silence,
imagining a hundred
screaming voices
      pushing forward to stand
first, and foremost in
some ultra-imaginary queue -
for placement
   in the hierarchical lottery of
death, and life...
  and found myself,
my tongue made of marble
silent...
               while my body
ready for mummification's
pickle preservatives...
     of man in sacrament of
"holy text" -
tell man what you would
tell a bark of cinnamon -
unto dust so you too will
                return...
but add that dust when cooking,
throw man's ash into the furnace,
and see the culinary / spiritual
transformation!
   even the righteous man will
have a chance to walk through hell,
as did dante guided by virgil...
odd, that dante didn't decide
upon homer being the guide...
me? i woudln't have chosen virgil,
rather? horace...
               i would not place no man
in either heaven, or in hell,
   or for that matter,
                 the devil in a garden...
as i might be due to place a god
in a desert, or a tundra...
water water, everywhere, but not
a drop to drink,
s. t. coleridge -
    alt.? sand, sand everywhere,
            but no mud's worth of brick.
even the righteous pass
through hell,
     whereby a heaven
   reveals itself, in its pristine
clarification,
   an anti-****** of the theatre,
the comedy, the laments,
the joys of hell...
                      heaven is the anti-******
of our adventures,
   evidently deus qua deus
                   (god, as being god),
can only be omni-etc., invoking
himself toward also being boring...
if you prefix omni- to a being,
you also make that being
impotent...
                predictable...
                ­                             boring;
i really do hate what the romans
did with the hebrew god...
      hate it beyond measure,
beyond contemplation,
   therefore prescribing me with
automaton spontaneity and
anarchy...
                  and omni- potent,
present, etc. god...
    is a contradiction of
a concept of humanity's free will,
which does, actually exists,
although in its existence,
    expressed in the most
     horrid allowances
of its expression,
always counter to the "argument"
  of allowing a god to exist;
what's the problem then?
         i'm just saying that
  there is no ****** or anything worth
memory in dante's paradiso...
          heaven has no knowledge
of memory,
   heaven has no room for memory...
heaven censors the mere idea of
the capacity of memory...
    heaven has no room for imagination
and heaven has no room
for thought...
           with god present,
there is no thought along the lines
of a moral ought...
heaven is therefore, "regrettably worth
forgetting"...
      heaven has no memory
of a man's mortality...
   no one cites dante's paradiso...
only inferno is sold on its own
outside the entire three-tier work...
          perhaps...
perhaps i'll age and write a revision of
dante's inferno, but instead of virgil
being my guide, i'd take to asking
horace for a guiding hand...
   sacred homer, sacredly sits,
                                          learning braille:
that invisible quest for song...
   ready to be revived,
with the last vision in his eyes
   as that of the burning
                            of troy, in die nacht.