intern in heaven

i took an internship in heaven
& it wasn't all it's cracked up to be. back then,
i lived in an apartment without walls
in the city of sound. all my boyfriends
smelled like sawdust & basements.
i stayed with them because they had cars
& could drive me to the cloud's edge
where i entered. i took the job thinking
i might learn about the afterlife. 
that did not happen. instead i learned that
earth is actually much bigger than i thought.
everyone is always going on about 
how beautiful it is that we are small
in the universe. i learned it is also beautiful
that we are huge. the oceans in our throats.
contrary to popular christianity, all beings
go to heaven. most of my days were spent
processing flies. one by one by one. 
the angels were horrible. gossipy & vapid.
sometimes though i would break the rules
& those were my most joyful moments. 
i met a moth who was so soft & glorious 
i stole her & took her back to my block
where the train sliced the street like a paper-cutter.
she was dazed & astounded. a second life. 
i considered that maybe cats had nine lives
because that was how many times interns
smuggled them back from the gates. 
there is a lot of error up there. rules were broken
much more easily than i anticipated. god does not visit.
i was told i would see him but i never did
in my whole summer of work. one angel though
came to watch me for a day. i saw him
using his sight to peer down & watch
a couple arguing & throwing dishes out the window.
i could see it too. a little television. 
"hey is that my block?" i asked. "yep," the angel said
& never spoke to me again. 
i never got paid. they said i would receive
an envelope of gold. i did but i took it to
a pawn shop hoping to make rent
& the man laughed. he said it was plastic. 
plastic glitter. i looked up. imagined the angels
using that gold meant for me to buy a case of beer 
or something. angels love human vices. 
despite all of that it was the best job i ever had.
the moth visited me often. i would ask her
what she loved most about the night.
she would tell me what she had named the stars.
her language, sweet & twig-like. 
when i moved & said farewell to her.
she was reaching, tirelessly, toward the lamp light.