The Death of God Barry Spacks

Barry Spacks The Death of God

So when everybody died God figured She’d better get organized because that was a whole buncha people, so She turned hell into a disco with limited access, fire regulations, plus Purgatory moved on as slow as the San Diego Freeway, leaving heaven under-populated, the whole 7 billion could fit in up there, no trouble, except She wasn’t that kind of a God but rather old school, namely some get “A’s,” others not. Questionnaires on life-events or individual confrontations would take forever to sift all out so She declared: “you who are famous, thus REAL, please form a line to the right. And those who aren’t celebrated but wish to be real and celebrated, please, line up on the left,” which left four individuals out of it, Ms. Fishbein, who can’t understand the directions and Barry, too busy writing this poem, and Eleanora Kulchicki, Barry’s elegant girl friend from college days (because he’d told her he’d put her in a poem someday) -- and then time stopped, which means that God Herself had died. Gridlock! Oh, and I forgot to mention the fourth who missed the deal, Ernest Macuchnik, Sears delivery man his truck filled with new appliances... what to do, they’re all of them dead, even God.