Postcard from Paradise

Dear Louie: Well, the wake was well rehearsed;
you sent me off to heaven with a bang.
It took some getting used to, just at first,
but now I think I’ve mostly got the hang
of all the do’s and don’t’s. Of course I cursed
each time I came across a cheeky gang
of noisy cherubs. Thought my head would burst —
those loud godawful madrigals they sang.
I miss “Sweet Adeline.” And, Christ, the thirst!
There’s nothing here but holy wells that sprang
from smitten rocks, and hell, that stuff’s the worst.
But then I checked my shroud, and damn — uh, dang —
I found the pint! I sneak a little snort
when things get rough. Thanks, kid.
when things get rough. Thanks, kid. From Uncle Mort