Purgatory Blvd by Craig Kirchner

It’s foggy, everything is vague and soft,
doesn’t know how he got here,
but thankfully, there is no pain.
The street sign comes into view -
Purgatory Blvd, with an arrow.

Between here and Heaven could be vast,
or right around the corner, no cross streets,
just various stark stone street signs pointing the way.
Is he here alone, or will he be joined by others,
in the same state of puzzled sinfulness?

Is there a sponsor to tell him how he’s doing,
and what the program is? Twelve points,
a stop-over for the unchaste,
a difficult journey taking decades,
or centuries of constructing wholesomeness?

Suffering was always implied as part of the process.
The possibilities seem to range,
from a long walk alone, to torture.
It does seem to come with a guarantee, that he
won’t end up burning in Hell, or he’d be there.

But it seems clear, he won’t know Heavenly Bliss
until he walks the miles and suffers.
He has never been a joiner, not much on authority,
or contrition - this could end up being,
a particularly tough stage in his development.

Craig Kirchner has been nominated three times for Pushcart, and has a book of poetry, Roomful of Navels. He’s been published in Chiron Review, in parentheses, Main Street Rag and dozens of other journals. Craig can be found on Bluesky.