Heaven Pantoum
When I decide it's time for heaven,
God will make me toast
with peanut butter scooped from big band horns,
and jazz riffs dipped in mom's Jif jars.
Yes, God will make me toast
to blues licks spread on whole wheat bread,
to jazz riffs dipped in mom's Jif jars, to
jams, to chords all crisp from burning notes.
Blues licks spread on whole wheat bread, and
have you heard of jazz en-
jambed? of chords all crisp, or burning notes?
My teeth will hear, my ears will chew—for
have you heard of jazz en-
grained in peanut butter scooped from horns?
My teeth will hear, my ears will chew
when I decide it's time for heaven.