Heaven For Some Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

It's said, by those who have been there and back,
that hell can at times be a boring place, pink
lightening and women that endlessly try a new
frocks on. Here are pools of banal sin, rivers
of pornography and small time crooks trying
to sell you fake religious icons, but not one evil
dictator around repenting his murderous ways,
or a capitalist swine now regretting cheating
workers of their pension rights. Where do they
go? Are they pardoned and sent to a privatized
heaven where they play high stake poker with
senior seraphs? I'd like to know before I rob
a bank. I'm fed up with stealing children's toys.