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Fried Oysters

When I got to Heaven,
God was gone

His desk cleaned out,
the Angels pawned

Not one scant sign,
he was ever there

Eviction notice,
pinned to his chair

My ride had left,
my ticket torn

No place to stay,
my hopes forlorn

Looking down,
I saw the truth

The clouds were empty,
destitute

All tenets followed,
a promise made

Those things I dreamed of,
the church forbade

So here I stay,
imprisoned high

No pearly gates
—the oysters fried

(Rosemont College: February, 2020)
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Submitted by Kurt Philip Behm on February 14, 2020

Modified by Kurt Philip Behm

25 sec read
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Kurt Philip Behm

Longtime writer with twelve books in publication. Three of them Poetry. : The Death Of The Playground : The Sword Of Ichiban : Searching For Crazy Horse : Darkening Sun : An Anthology Of Perception-Vol's 1 & 2 : After Midnight : Sammy And Bumpers : The Fall City Mandate : Revenge Along The War Trail : Death from The Sky more…

All Kurt Philip Behm poems | Kurt Philip Behm Books

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    "Fried Oysters" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 25 Jun 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/52461/fried-oysters>.

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