Urgent Notice: New Management
Please read this notice carefully and keep it where you can find it.As of October 1st, Hell will be officially under new management.
A new administration has long been desired since the Harrowing, Therefore we expect your full compliance and support in the impendingChanges. First of which, the reconstruction of the Highway to Hell.While construction is underway, all passage to Hell will be temporarilydirected to the ferryman, Charon, who has reluctantly come outOf retirement for this very special project. Please ensure that all yourLoved ones are buried accordingly and are in possession of at least 1/6th of a drachma to pay the toll ( IOU's will no longer be accepted).
Boarding of the ferry shall be conducted in a neat and orderly fashion.
There is to be no swimming or fishing in Acheron, Styx, or Lethe due tothe recent upsurge in the surrounding bear populations as well as theneed to maintain Hell’s notoriously bleak and unpleasant public image. Charon is much too old now to beat unruly souls with his oar, so please,For the love of the God that damned you, be on your best undead behavior.
In addition to the aforementioned changes, there shall also be new marketprocedures and policies implemented to resurrect the declining stock valueof the human soul, which emerged following the advent of the Macintosh and exacerbated by similarly functioning instruments such as Tiktok, Meta, and AI. Experts predict the stock value to rebound as these changes occur, though with it, an inflation in the price of séances and unsolicited haunts.
Devilishly good stand-up will still be performed every alternating Thursday,and dead rock concerts will continue to be shown in the second circle everySaturday night— after Mephostophiles’ Barbecue Grillin’ & Chillin’ class—as it
would be dreadfully sinful to waste a space with such desirable acoustics.Once more, we expect full compliance and your unliving support in these matters.
These are lofty goals indeed but Rome was not destroyed over night, and neither will Hell be. So please direct any questions, comments and/or concerns to someonewho gives a damn and we look forward to seeing you down here.
REMINDER: Senior discounts expire with corporeal formand thus will not be honored in this age nor the age to come. Sincerely, Hell’s New Management Team Published 02/09/2026
REMINDER: Senior discounts expire with corporeal formand thus will not be honored in this age nor the age to come. Sincerely, Hell’s New Management Team Published 02/09/2026
Soldiers of Acquiescence
Here is the land where lost bastards roamAnd carry the graceless grudgingly homeIn putrid sacks that bounce with every stepAnd deliver them to their mother’s deck.
Here! Come see the thick, the thin, and the dead!The legion, drunk like blown reeds move ahead.Singing whispers and chants of lives unlived,Foolishly grasping for dreams God undid.
Adorned with Hell-dipped clad and rotting coat,Black corridors for eyes, ripped flesh, lips, and throats.Stolen lost souls of war, march with great woeIn vain attempt to reach their long-gone home.
Save for one troop buried amongst the throngWho rests in silence, ruining the song.Why keep from your flock, oh you little one?For air still moves, trees grow, and babes still run.
Why oh why, little one, do you not cry?Your better kin need not even try.Natural as the setting sun, tears do fall,Making lovely red faces of them all.
Tell me! Speak now, you wretched little thing!Think yourself clever, then learn my sting.Empty your mouth, let the good pain crawl in;Drop your facade and atone for your sins.
It stood for a bitter moment and this it said:“Do not ask why I keep so very still,Why my lips do touch and no words spill.I carry my burden: this bloody sack,Without question and without fighting back.I keep my tears, for they’re not mine to shed,I reserve myself ‘til these badlands end.My putrid soul is the immortal price That must be paid in full for paradise.” Published 12/19/2025
Here! Come see the thick, the thin, and the dead!The legion, drunk like blown reeds move ahead.Singing whispers and chants of lives unlived,Foolishly grasping for dreams God undid.
Adorned with Hell-dipped clad and rotting coat,Black corridors for eyes, ripped flesh, lips, and throats.Stolen lost souls of war, march with great woeIn vain attempt to reach their long-gone home.
Save for one troop buried amongst the throngWho rests in silence, ruining the song.Why keep from your flock, oh you little one?For air still moves, trees grow, and babes still run.
Why oh why, little one, do you not cry?Your better kin need not even try.Natural as the setting sun, tears do fall,Making lovely red faces of them all.
Tell me! Speak now, you wretched little thing!Think yourself clever, then learn my sting.Empty your mouth, let the good pain crawl in;Drop your facade and atone for your sins.
It stood for a bitter moment and this it said:“Do not ask why I keep so very still,Why my lips do touch and no words spill.I carry my burden: this bloody sack,Without question and without fighting back.I keep my tears, for they’re not mine to shed,I reserve myself ‘til these badlands end.My putrid soul is the immortal price That must be paid in full for paradise.” Published 12/19/2025
Reckoner
How funny do they find it? All those demonsAnd devils, all of Hell’s violent vassals?
Whose prey on earth has thinned and dispersedTheir chaplets burned and hearts inuredTo mercilessness, sin, and the greediest of men.
For what need now does earth possessFor foreign sources of distress?
For salesmen selling gold for souls?Or leaders who send the poor out in droves?
For temptations derived from a spectral kind?Or hatred or want implanted in the mind?
When grace in action is something despised,The worldly Prince need not even hideFrom righteousness nor the sign of the times.
For God above now sits alone and cries,A barren father— He, a sheepless Shepard.
The grieving gardener of paradise.Who tills the field and scatters the seed,To make fair the image no human will ever see.
While Acheron and Styx are beset on each sideWith lawn chairs, recliners, and umbrellas for the shine
Full of fat demons watching fresh souls pile highAnd still, the world asks: “Why, God? Why?” Published 10/10/2025
No Way out
We are in love from timeto time and we eat what we drinkand drink what we eat and sleep awake and laugh at our wakes.
We are in love, to timefrom time. swimming in it, spitting to add to it, and kissing to drain it.
We are in love, sealed insideher tupperware like old dinnertil time pours us out.
We are in love the way a parcel is in transitWe are in love the way birthdays are in monthsWe are in love the way we are in troubleWe are always in love and always on our way outGo—get your coat, I’ll hold the door open for you.
We are in time, from loveto love, and sometimes with luck, we collide. Published 09/02/2025
MRI
For Robert Creeley
Find I love you on the mapin the mindsomewhere
besideyour freudian hate andhypothalamus—
find it—inside the paperthick split of your brain
shivering like a babe or fish ready to stop and
snare the mess andmesses ofMr. & Mrs. Published 07/07/2025
Find I love you on the mapin the mindsomewhere
besideyour freudian hate andhypothalamus—
find it—inside the paperthick split of your brain
shivering like a babe or fish ready to stop and
snare the mess andmesses ofMr. & Mrs. Published 07/07/2025
Only then, and til then only does death
share in the marriage bed and baby’scrib. Over
and over and overlike this.
You’ll lose you and I, lesswherea place
a twist
of loveand time.
share in the marriage bed and baby’scrib. Over
and over and overlike this.
You’ll lose you and I, lesswherea place
a twist
of loveand time.
The Breath of God
The Breath of God is in the windWhisking the tops of treesCreasing the seasPatiently calling to me.
An eternal gale, an endless songRinging from every corner Ignoring human bordersKnowing no foreigner. The Breath of God is within me Showing me where to go, When to cut, when to grow,And sharing all I need to know. Published 03/22/2025
An eternal gale, an endless songRinging from every corner Ignoring human bordersKnowing no foreigner. The Breath of God is within me Showing me where to go, When to cut, when to grow,And sharing all I need to know. Published 03/22/2025
Ode to Cheese
Carved and chopped, sliced and blocked,If only these golden wheels could talkOf places far over land and sea,Of mountains and valleys where I’d like to be.
From the emerald plains of Emilia-Romagna to the warm shores of Cyprus;From the cold caves of the Netherlands to the soft banks of the Tigris;From the quiet heights of Normandy, and all the way to the Satori family.
If only they’d speak, if only they could, They’d plead and shout: “Pair me with wine, Some fruit, and some fig,Cut off my rind, say salut, and dig in.” Published 1/17/2025
From the emerald plains of Emilia-Romagna to the warm shores of Cyprus;From the cold caves of the Netherlands to the soft banks of the Tigris;From the quiet heights of Normandy, and all the way to the Satori family.
If only they’d speak, if only they could, They’d plead and shout: “Pair me with wine, Some fruit, and some fig,Cut off my rind, say salut, and dig in.” Published 1/17/2025
This LIttle thing of the Sea
This Little Thing of the Sea,That which is so trivial to meIs charged with memoriesOf places no human could ever see
I hold in my handYou, a small token from the sandThe color of a bone, the frown of a phone, A gentle reminder of what is beyond my home
For you, Little Thing, my heart weeps To think we’ve forgotten your soft pleas,How small and insignificant we think you beBut truth is, Little Thing, you are greater than me. Published 09/06/2024
I hold in my handYou, a small token from the sandThe color of a bone, the frown of a phone, A gentle reminder of what is beyond my home
For you, Little Thing, my heart weeps To think we’ve forgotten your soft pleas,How small and insignificant we think you beBut truth is, Little Thing, you are greater than me. Published 09/06/2024
An Error of MaN
When days and nights and hours collideWith every passing click that captures time,I count the many blessings I seeOf why it’s best to live than cease to be.
I dream of oceans deep and forests highAnd pray to keep my soul alive.To bathe in every water here on Earth,To never starve or need to quench my thirst.
But others I see, who, less likely than meTo love our world and call it kind and free;But think of life as a devil’s paradiseWhere blessings are only won with price.
And who am I to convince them otherwise?When all their lives they have been told lies?Who am I with a warm heavy coat,Judge and comment, pry and poke?
Who decides that I should laugh and danceWhile my kin weep and live by chance?Is this the life God had planned?Or simply the error of man? Published 09/06/2024
I dream of oceans deep and forests highAnd pray to keep my soul alive.To bathe in every water here on Earth,To never starve or need to quench my thirst.
But others I see, who, less likely than meTo love our world and call it kind and free;But think of life as a devil’s paradiseWhere blessings are only won with price.
And who am I to convince them otherwise?When all their lives they have been told lies?Who am I with a warm heavy coat,Judge and comment, pry and poke?
Who decides that I should laugh and danceWhile my kin weep and live by chance?Is this the life God had planned?Or simply the error of man? Published 09/06/2024