And what he did last just
before his personal power
rose and surged
then tweeted out
was check his e-mail.
“Heaven will be full of spam,”
he decried, “because
everyone wants to be there,
while hell will be whiteout,
an empty inbox.”
“Or the other way around,”
I replied.
“Oh, that’s pithy,” he said.
“And there’s nothing I dislike
more than an epiphany poem.”
The Coming of the Toads 