When you die

When we die, what? What will we show god our IZOD, garbage, mortgage cultural capital happy little picket fence degrees, self obsessed narcissistic striving for that lie that old tired lie "self" fulfillment what will we show her God As she laughs a terrible howl of tornados and hail storms As she throws back her star studded locks and unfurls her eye lashes God As she opens the book of days and marks by our insignificant little life's name A “0” And lets us on as before, moslty un-noticed even by god, who could really care less, down, into a glum hades, among the shades, us too, as always, A shade, a blown ash, forever