welcome to death the darling and dashing grin reeper gleened,
through very attractive masks with the enticing demotiv shy grin,
popular lore is wrong about transition it’s not at all what you believe,
we’ve been expecting your imminent arrival so do please come right on in.
here the choice is yours to choose heaven or hell and there’s no going word backs,
we grin reapers are here as your subconscious guides to give you the final choice tour,
please proceed beyond the red rope to the vip line for the transport to hell on the two way traxx,
your friends have been eagerly a waiting for your shadow because for what they ill you are the cure.
the car was wall to wall red velvet with plishy cushions for your recently transformed perfect ass,
drinks were served all the way down by a mile high qualifier and they tasted like a sweet quest,
when our gates to hell glided open there was a surprising bash of your favorite foie gras,
to your surprise with a dash of demise were faces just as you remembered them best.
instead of dark and deadly you see hot and sexy among rolling hills and cool clubs,
there is no fire or brimstone and instead more sin with perfect tone and lashes,
no teeth gnashing and instead they get to be dragged over ass & bare backs,
it’s all golf courses and hot tubs with scantily clad servant lads and lasses.
this doesn’t seem so bad you tell yourself as the drink begins its zings,
you finally begin to understand and sorta start to like the gleen grin.
because as far as you can see it really can’t get better than this,
everything ever wanted with just a taint of unforgivable sin.
just to be sure you have to check and take the rest of the tour,
the round trip traxx car was a little plain and nothing good was served,
as far as you are concerned nothing served shouldn’t be part of your de jour,
the door swished open and there was no welcome but you barely noticed or observed.
eventually you ask the grin reaper where’s saint-what’s-his-name and the answer is a shrug,
oh well you tell your self you are probably not staying anyway and splif just then they appeared.
welcome he said as he cracked open and fingered the reaper ‘he’s can’t look in here, he is a bad drug’.
you float right in like you own the space that you’re flying in but the air is smeared with something weird.
you tell yourself this is kinda cool with weightless decisions & an aerial view not possible down there,
just as your second guess is coming something crazy happens that makes the final decision easy,
everyone you know that wasn’t down there standing in rows that looks like a triangle sphere,
they too appear just as you remember them with anger glowing eyes and looks of queezy.
The first few rows are who loved you and they all have their heads bowed in disgrace,
the rest held high heads because they’ve been waiting as long as the friends below,
the rows behind hold those whom you lied and who lost in your one person race,
the long row in back are those you royally fucked over just a short time ago.
to hell with us you say to your guide and check back in your temp wing,
the air up here if filled with fear and there is not not much to do here.
then the ones you stole emotions from started to cheer and sing,
in decent you sensed something different in the form of a tear.
the car disappeared and replaced with a caged cargo elevator,
the only button to press is down and it’s always the right size,
you wet yourself seeing that your greeter was hell’s mayor,
always try to choose your friends and muses very wise.
dead beat poet 