the atmosphere on the fluffy
clouds might take on some odd turns
since everyone there has
passed the final test,
and, guilt-free,
they float from puffy cloud to puffy
cloud nude as jaybirds
(except those whose moms object), sipping exotic drinks while glorious
synthesized organ music pumps out
god's hit songs ranging from
"Amazing Grace" to Mozart's "Requiem."
of course, some punkish newcomers
might feel perturbed, their spiked hair shaved off by St. Peter
but they get over it when they notice
no other punkers made it,
and all gangsta rappers
are in the other, hotter, place,
(not hell, purgatory)
until they become
more sensitive to females.
God bless you. Kathy
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.