Debo’s Heaven

I want to be in Debo’s heaven.

In regular heaven all the napkins are folded and the debits and credits line up.

In Debo’s heaven the trees burst forth unrestrained neon purple with blossoms every shade of the rainbow.

All the creatures are large and lovable even the ones with shiny, dayglow teeth growing out of every whimsical orifice.

They follow us around, happy as puppies, wanting to show us their babies.

Every body sings, contentedly, with no words.

The people smile warmly and gently but keep a respectful distance.

Every color has a texture,

Every feeling leads to laughter, that roils over rocklike creatures

in the stream that doesn’t have to lead anywhere or have any purpose, it just is.