-common sense within an otherwise mystifying territory-

who can navigate such a mad terrain?

for those in the know, I have questions.

is the heaven-scape cloud-like and shimmering 

with lambs all around, and great grandfathers

rocking to broadcasts of Enrico Caruso, or

is it populated by the dimwitted, perpetually leaning

upon the tithing pleas of televised evangelists?

is the long-beard cascading from the chin of God

well-groomed, or does it stink like festering

mutton broth as forced upon Lizzie by Andrew Borden?

––and will I be allowed to inspect the documents,

in order to seek more compatible accommodations?

––and which of the Holy See's mobsters will have

their rings kissed in obedience at the gate?

––and is the stairway to heaven merely a thin plate of gold?

so, who’s who in the land of good and plenty?

––also, is the atmosphere clearly brushed in muted

tones as the Florentines have suggested, or smeared

a thicker Titian red as in the claims of angry Venetians?

lastly, if I may be so bold. –– when God made you from the snort

of his nostrils, would you say it was because he was on your side?