After we die I hope our souls can dream,
perpetual showings on some silver screen,
movies and dramas, and all kinds of sports
internal Facebook with friends of all sorts,
add mystical Internet, with minutes unbound
magical mp3 players with unlimited sound,
a virtual library with every book written,
maybe some ballet, so I can be smitten.
If Heaven’s just endless meditation,
hymns and church the only invitation,
then I’ll sit on the farthest back wall,
so I can peruse my CNN crawl.