Solace, or What My Evangelical Friend Taught Me About the Afterlife

Heaven will be a never-

ending church service.

We’ll be singing our

lauds to the Lord

forevermore!

And that’s the good place?

You mean Hell is gonna

be even worse?

We sat on a wooden

pew for 90 minutes.

The sermon warned of

Satan’s crafty wiles.

Our asses ached

like the devil. When I asked

if there’d be pillows,

he said he didn’t know.

But some of the Angels shed

their milky feathers.

What’s the point of moulting

if it brings no sense of

comfort? My son who died at seven

would harvest fallen plumage

in the woods. Dash about

the trees, arms in oscillation.

I think he reached his own

empyrean, like a crow

he once adored

then saw no more, perched

upon the timber, squawking

its godly praise for what

felt like eternity.

Andreas Gripp

October 19, 2025

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