the gates of heaven in poetry

  • June 11, 2017, 1:58 a.m.
  • |
  • Public

if you end up famous
when you die some hack cartoonist will draw
the shallowest most facile representation of your life
standing at the gates of heaven

even if you died at eighty-nine
if the thing you were famous for happened when you were nineteen
that is what you will be drawn as
at the gates of heaven

even if what made you famous ended up feeling limiting to you
type-cast you, made you one-dimesional
even if it was a blip in the ocean of what you thought really defined you
even if you consider it a minor accomplishment as compared to
much better things you did that were not as well known
your family
your charity
your hard-earned life philosophy
that is how you will be drawn in the end
at the gates of heaven

even if you didn’t believe in the mainstream Christian idea of heaven
even if you didn’t believe in any sort of afterlife at all
if you thought you would be reincarnated
taken to Valhalla or simply stopped being anything
there the thinnest version of your life will be standing
in front of Saint Peter
who will spout as sad or funny version of your ancient catchphrase
in the end at the gates of heaven

Adam West hadn’t been Batman since nineteen sixty-eight?
yet fifty years later he’s in the damn cowl in his thirties again
climbing a bat-rope up to Saint Peter’s door

this is what fame does
you think it might let the world understand you
you think it might help people understand themselves better
through the manifestations of your good works and deeds
but in death, you will be reduced to a soundbite version of yourself
an advertisement for a Cliffs Notes of a Dummy’s Guide to your life
Jesus was a socialist who hung out with hookers and day-labourers
told people to pay their taxes and take an axe to the banks
but the elevator pitch about coming back from the dead and you can too
that His friends laid out as a hook to get to the philosophy
to market the idea out to the greater world
pretty soon all that’s left was the hook
and now there’s the Prosperity Gospel
and now there are Crusades
and now there are people justifying their hatred of the outcast
because the price of being known all over the world
was that people only give a damn about the hook

Prince with that weird name-logo shaped guitar
at the gates of heaven
Bowie in full Ziggy Stardust make-up he’d retired in the Seventies
at the gates of heaven
Robin Williams in full Mrs. Doubtfire gag-drag
at the gates of heaven
Jesus on the cross
at the gates of heaven

fame will suck that out of you
make everyone remember your name and
make everyone misremember you
leave you some freelance hack’s fill-in-the-blanks cartoon
climbing paradise walls on a rope in your old bat-suit
at the gates of heaven

not that I wouldn’t try it, of course
we all want to believe
we’re the exception to the rule
even though we won’t be
even though we’re all fools
when it gets to the gates of heaven


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