abundance
Hell is not a place of fire and eternally raining brimstone.
It is not, as they say, the source of all that is evil.
Rather, it is a garden of earthly delights,
That which appeals most to the range of human senses.
Women and men dance about fitfully, fearing the feel of fabric to skin.
Holiness is approached with the Apple in front of naturally
Phallic fountain springs, flesh-colored contraptions about
In the form of abominations.
Man-sized bunnies lie with compromising women,
Swine dressed as nuns embrace gluttonous men,
Indiscriminate relations are the order the day.
Hedonism is encouraged, becoming, requisite.
In the strangest of places, a face of wisdom peers at
The staged course, with its eyes, with its ass.
Observing what the monsters already know, what the souls question.
Lights search for fathers who have left, mothers who have quit,
Children who wander the streets seeking out mayhem.
