every one good gets in

let's find a new
religion your girlfriend
candy
tells you, as she
polishes her
toe nails black.
we need a new fun
religion with a happy
go lucky God.
I'm so tired of
fire and brimstone.
guilt. aren't
you tired of guilt?
you look up from
the newspaper and nod.
yup.
I am.
so, she says, maybe
we should invent
a religion of our own.
sure, you tell her
as you scan the box scores
from last night's game.
I'm right there with you
honey.
no more guilt. anything
goes. have fun, be
happy. that's our
motto. she says, everyone gets
into heaven, except hitler
and Obama, people like
that. you look at her
over the tilt
of the paper. you mean
Osama, not Obama.
whatever she says.
bad people don't get
in. instead of wine
and wafers, we can
have mixed drinks
and little crackers
with shrimp on them.
maybe watercress nuts
wrapped in bacon.
no more kneeling either.
it's going to be a
dancing church. but
no snakes or crazy talk.
sounds good you tell
her, rolling your eyes
behind the paper.
amen sister.
I think you're on to
something. amen.