The Funeral Parlor Boogie Poem by Bryan Taplits

Though the steps that lead to heaven were short-
They were never by an airliner
Or jet,
At times, yes, the scenes seemed so elongated,
Exhausting-
At other times though there was exultation-
Like winning a bet.

Now all the gambles have ended up in a gambol,
On a journey forward, without a way-station,
As I fall underground, and a crypt now surrounds
Giddy am I on my final flight-
Leading to my final Destination.