Meeting JFK in Heaven


My mom makes French Fries
With an air fryer, her intentions,
Of keeping us healthy, curbing 
The LDL Cholesterol to a minimum.
So you wonder, why are we so scared
Of an angina and death. We are not
Shatterproof creatures, and death
Is when your heart shatters to minuscule
Pieces. Of course, there are the accidents
And the assassinations, when you have no
Control over your fate. You wonder, if JFK knew
Or was scared of what was to come,
And I guess, he being catholic, just as
I am, would have been coaxed into
Believing there is a heaven. Heaven to me
Is a place when everything is free,
And money, the origin of most sins,
Has no axiolological merit. Still I wonder if everything
Being free would make ideal creatures
Who live in the absence of sin,
As heaven is supposed to be. I imagine
Shaking JFK hand in heaven, perhaps
Even Old Teddy who did so much
For the environment, as you wonder if happiness
Is omnipresent in heaven. Perhaps we
Will be smiling all the time,
Yelping in glee, screaming exultations,
And helping each other, knowing
Here, creatures don’t age. So why am
I scared of the afterlife? Perhaps its because we
Don’t’ have proof of anything. Science
Is an empty cupboard there, with no
Ammunition to help the cause, when,
All the science websites are making
A killing on simplifying science
To lay man’s terms. I’m a man looking
Outside at the highest point in the sky
And wondering what is there beyond that.
Heaven; perhaps, or perhaps not. I will
Live out my life, a poet, a scientist,
Henley helping me on with the words of “Invictus”
And I say if I can’t be the captain
Of my soul, I’ll at least be a deck hand
Who makes the sail rise, for fate winds
To carry me, past the horizon,
Of my oblivion, to shake JFKs hand.

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