I'm imagining if there's a life after suicide, and if there's really a paradise.
Imagine life after suicide,
Living on the other side,
Where hell and heaven collide,
Where will my soul reside,
Where do they all abide,
They talk about a paradise,
They say that it's very nice,
Whenever they fantasize,
Jesus makes my soul to rise,
But if I back slide,
And commit the suicide,
I wont meet the heavens bride,
Is there life after suicide?
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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