Agnostic, Southwestern Bouncer Gets Religion

Please bury me beside Saint Peter's wreath;
   Both Sodom and Gomorrah have their salt.
And if I'm barred from God, I'll dwell beneath
   The earth's façade—my gut, a lava vault;
My massive hands, the ocean floor; my teeth,
   The grinding plates of the San Andreas fault.

I'd swallow Beelzebub in Monterey,
   And vomit magma hell on terrorists,
Then yawn to put the coast in Santa Fe
   For hell's angels and televangelists;
My purgatory tavern and café
   Would serve salvation on their weekend trysts.

© Glenn Nicholls