My invite read, don’t past go, don’t collect 500 pounds
Go straight to the Pearly gates and have a word with St Peter
Start with the fact he is not doing his job well
The gates are open, any fool can walk in
What would God have to say about that?
I wanted to ask where my invitation had come from
Was he hiding some joker behind a cloud?
How come this piece of fancy card
became my passport through the Pearly Gates?
After I awoke from what I can only describe
as a mind meld, my dentist looked at me strangely
Apparently, while I was coming too, I said,
“You can’t kick me out, I have too many questions for St Peter.”
I do have a few thoughts I would like to discuss with him
What can I say; maybe I need more gas and air
Take another trip…