His pockets were full of knives and lint.

Something tells me
that Hell will have
pretty flowered wallpaper
peeling at the edges;
maybe a leather couch
that sticks to the bottom
of my sweaty legs;
but definitely, if nothing else
postcards from you, far away
laughing.

What they say about
the devil you know
being better than
the devil you don't
will go out the window
as soon as I find myself
in that fiery eternal waiting room
face to face
with what I'll realize is the only Devil
the one I've known all along:
Bingo, and I hope those seven years'll go fast.

But hold on, now;
you're getting ahead of yourself.
Don't laugh too hard
until you read the roster.