Heaven & Hell
in heaven there will be no george carlin or redd foxx records in heaven there will be no john waters or lucio fulci films in heaven there will be no rolling stones or motörhead songs in heaven edwige fenech and christy canyon's tits will be as sterile and useless as treadless tires in heaven there will be no robert williams or lucian freud paintings in heaven there will be no bukowski poems or dirty pulp novels in heaven i'm afraid there will be no loch ness monster no bigfoot sightings or alien abductions in heaven there will be no schopenhauer or hobbes or bertrand russell to provoke us in heaven cocks and balls tits and asses cigarettes and booze and dope and brutally violent 5 round championship fights and gloriously idiotic and flamboyant peacocking fashions will be as useless as gold teeth in a corpse if any of these things exist in heaven how can they be anything more than the parental guidance sanitized heavenized christianized 40 proof versions of the real thing? how can heaven be heaven without the real 80 proof carlin or foxx lawler vs. mcdonald 2 or lemmy or keith and mick? how can heaven be heaven without bukowski and blaxsploitation and lesbians in leather on the covers of pulp novels? how can heaven be heaven without bloody violent spaghetti westerns and zombie films and giallos with plenty of gore and guts and tits and ass? how can heaven be anything but hell without these? or maybe even worse heaven's catalogue is the 95 calorie scrubbed for network TV peephole versions of all that stuff that made life worth living while we nourished and satiated of mind, body and soul in the lulling comfort of paradise are none the wiser to the milquetoast we're being served i suppose it won't matter we won't need that shit to help us think and feel cause in paradise in nirvana there's no need for thinking and feeling since mere existence in the perfection of paradise heaven or nirvana in and of itself is pacification enough i dunno maybe it's because i'm scared of what i don't already know that i need to cling to what i already know can give me comfort and a little it of joy but i smell bullshit in this notion of existence without needs or desires without the needs or desires if nothing else that tempt that stimulate that provoke us to think and to feel and give expression to our needs and desires through art that's sometimes sublime sometimes gritty and filthy which suggests like everything else in its dichotomy in its imperfection maybe it's real
mrobins71 