| Humor Poetry
posted July 27, 2014
It's a long story
On the Seamy Side of Heaven
On the seamy side of Heaven,
Where the tarnished souls reside,
Hard up against the border fence with Hell,
Lived an underclass of Spirits,
Ones that sneaked in from outside,
With names like Achmed, Wong and Raphael.
Though they weren’t the sort of people
One would ask back home to dine,
They had a function one could not ignore.
They provided the cheap labour
That made Heaven look divine,
From snowy clouds to gleaming marble floor.
Plus, they worked the big plantations
Where ambrosia was grown,
The sweatshops where celestial robes were made:
In all the nasty, low paid jobs
The universe has known,
While Heaven carried on its big charade.
And the hoity-toity Angels,
With their haloes and big wings,
To demonstrate they were the master race,
Brought in rules and regulations
That, along with other things,
Would fix it so these peons knew their place.
Then the minions of Saint Peter,
Who, as Immigration Chief,
Was charged with Home Security as well,
Had instructions to be watchful,
Lest the system come to grief
With more of these illegals out of Hell.
So along rolled one hereafter
And then four or five at least,
With Angel numbers growing out of sight,
And the burden on the workers
Until they couldn’t cope, try though they might.
So in spite of their misgivings,
When the Angel council met,
Which happened every zillion years or so,
They were forced to reconsider,
Which they did with much regret,
An increase in the immigration flow.
The conservatives among them
(And there really were a lot -
In spite of all their efforts to disclaim)
Were prepared to raise the number
But, to sweeten up the pot,
Insisted that the budget stay the same.
By the time they reached agreement
On a ten percent increase,
Offset, of course, by cuts in basic pay,
They discovered to their horror
That the villain in the piece,
Old Nick, had lured the workers all away.
One may ask how this could happen:
How could anyone prefer
To suffer Hades’ flames and not think twice?
Well, the answer's quite straight forward:
All the Union Reps are there.
(For damn sure, there are none in Paradise).
And, even though the Devil
Was the boss right out of Hell,
He was putty in the hands of these tacticians
And they'd worked their normal havoc
(With some wild cat strikes as well)
‘til they’d screwed from him some pretty hot conditions.
So, if you aspire to Heaven
But grew up in foreign lands,
With maybe suspect ethnic traits as well,
Just you think about your options!
With the system as it stands,
It could be you'll be better off in Hell.
Share A Story In A Poem contest entry
If the poem hasn't said it all, it's too late now.
and 2 member cents.
You need to login
to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
© Copyright 2017.
All rights reserved.
has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.