Tim Russert, Unemployed in the Afterlife, Finds Heaven

It's nothing like the representations earthside.
No clouds, no glittering showers of gold sunbeams.
Rather, it's very functional, as one might expect
processing so many souls.
We queue up on smooth concrete, stained a pleasing green.
The walls, also concrete, are smooth and cool.
They tower a bit much, but alternately suggest
confident authority. A well-run bureaucracy.
It reminds me of Switzerland.
At my window--a nice granite counter--
the woman regrets that there's little call for
relentless interrogation.
"Deception, equivocation, prevarication...
these rhetorics are without force, I'm afraid.
Truth is the norm."
She suggests oral histories, many stories to be documented.
I leave with a Marantz PDM 670 recorder.