I don’t want to go to heaven.
don’t want new friends burrowing
into my earth actions, net worth,
fondness for Netflix. don’t want
to learn angel-speak, or how to
pious-party. One life was plenty.
I’d like to return to all that is—
become a banana tree, or
meadow, or a winter-frosted stone,
where seals rest. or how about
a nearly extinct, undervalued fish
like sturgeon or paddlefish, live
a fish life, and leave my fish body
to become a fireweed.
