If I was to be waved through a portal into paradise
(By whom? I dare not speculate), what would I see?
What sort of expectations should I entertain? A vast
Array of splendid foods, a side of beef, a leg of lamb,
Asparagus and perfect peaches, figs and dates,
Arugula? Would Islay Scotch be close at hand,
And first-class cognac, margaritas? Would there be,
In some dim corner, someone who could grace
The pages of a girlie magazine, her eyes trained on
Me, like two searchlights, wishing I would come to
Her? All tempting thoughts, but, inasmuch as I am
Old and growing feeble, what I'd find in paradise
Might be improvement in my breathing and a good
Night's sleep.