Good News Grips Midnight Phil Poem by Donal Mahoney

Phil doesn’t go to church
but after midnight he enjoys
watching preachers on TV
swing their bibles in the air,

march across the stage, yell
about the joys of heaven and
louder about the pains of hell.
He likes to see believers sing,

raise their arms and dance
in ecstasy down the aisles.
They might be on to something,
Midnight Phil thinks, clicking

his remote and wondering
if they could be right and if
they are, what about his bones.
Where will they lie after midnight.