for seven hours to
get our
tags renewed, we discuss
heaven and hell.
she says, there's both.
i say.
i don't know. i want to believe
in heaven,
but hell bothers
me.
what if they mess up the paper
work,
misspell your name,
and suddenly there you are
like a rotisserie chicken
forever spinning
in eternity.
it's all computerized, she says,
staring at her ticket,
B12.
is there a court? what if you're
on the edge.
half good, half bad.
is it a coin toss? who makes the call?
i don't know she says.
it's all in that book.
what book?
you know, that dusty book on
your shelf. The Bible.
oh, right.
maybe i'll google it.
hey. you're next, B11 just went
up.
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