March 2, 2019
The most of men don’t go there alive
The ones that do rarely survive
I braved the place at seventeen
I went to hell... and scrubbed it clean
Oh yes this tale has many a wonder
A fantastical myth of hush and thunder
And though myth it must appear to you
I know myself, it’s as true as true
The gnashing of teeth, the steaming of sweat
The melting of body and mind I met
The unbearable heat, the unbreathable air
And yes indeed the devil was there
But this yarn of yarns begins before
I dared dive through that demonic door
Like civilised folk at the beginning let’s start
When easy my burden and easy my heart
Within the border of land far yonder
Upon a time I worked and wandered
Flowing in milk and honey and beer
I woke each morning with yawnful cheer
My hands would wear and crack and heal
I cooked and relished every meal
The sun would rise, dissolving the mist
In red and orange and stunning bliss
On a morning alive and crisp as that
Robert called I to the calf milk vat
I gulped my breath and stifled my snout
For the stench of evil was lurking about
Filled with mastitis milk dredges, chunks of rot
Vomited cream oder, gaseas grot
And boiling putridity which burbled and curdled
I knew I gazed upon the netherworld
Robert, he smiled. How? I know not
Handed me a broom and warned me, “It’s hot”
A few moments I faltered and purposely delayed
But faithful and true his command I obeyed
With a gulping inhale and a small broom
I clambered into that terrible room
Lowering myself down from the top
The final meter I had to let go and drop
An inescapable feeling of complete restriction
Caught in my throat, daunting my diction
I lifted the brush but my arm could tell
It would not be so easy to clean out hell
First into the bereaved broth beneath
The brush must be dunked to wet its teeth
Then bristling with boiling beads of dross
The broom I raised to show who was boss
Oh how intense and ruthless the heat!
My gumboots melted onto my feet
Oh how awfully glumpy the air!
My lot was up, I would die in there
Sweat did not drip as in this world
It flowed out then straight to steam it curled
Garbed in a fleece and buff as well
I had not dressed to go to hell
Losing life with every plunge
The walls were finally freed of skunge
How long they took to escape the grime
I know not, that place lacked time
But woe be me, how foul, how cruel!
The walls were but a kiddie pool
The devil laughed his goosebump cackle
For next the ceiling I must tackle
Begone from loss of air and earth
But egged to act by Satanic mirth
I plunged my brush and clenched my face
If die I must, clean would be my resting place!
My flesh was weak, my blood was thin
Drops singed my hair and eyes and skin
Yet drawing strength from deep within
Down plunged the brush... and up again
At longer last, collapse was nigh
One last lift, one last cry
One back and forth elbow grease
One last blemish rest in peace
A stagger toward the hole above
A passage back to life and love
As my internal organs fried
A helping hand was supplied
With a final lunge and heroic flail
I escaped and lived to tell this tale
Indeed ah ha, oosh oosh, the end.
Take a moment my good friend
For soon you’ll move from here to grave
Hopefully from heaven you’ll smile and wave
However, if not, oh heck, oh well
Enjoy charcoaling forever in hell
If all seems sin and strife down there
It probably is, give up, despair
If all is infernal as I describe
Then you’ll know I yarn no lie
If all is fire and brimstone and gore
You’re welcome! It’s cleaner than before.
