Poetry

Body Language

When I die my soul will go to Heaven for
judgement by God and my body rot a
-way in the Earth or eventually
but wouldn’t it be something if my soul
was buried and decayed but my body

went to Heaven – when it got there, I mean
my body, maybe it would say Sorry
God, there’s been a mix-up and in the ground
my soul might complain that it had nothing
to offer the maggots that would sooner

or later show, I wonder what God would
do to settle the mess, maybe nothing
but then maybe He’d let my body
dwell among the souls in the Good Place and
as for my soul in its coffin, I mean
the box, noth the body, as a figure

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