The stairs to heaven were old,
The handrails were bent and rusty,
He’d been sued seven times so
God called the welder.
The welder came with the blacksmith inside him
in a pickup truck,
He swung out of the truck
like Jesse James
his boots making scratching sounds on the concrete.
“I can fix that for two hundred”
God replied, “I can trade a free trip up the stairs,
for the repair.”
“No sir said the welder,
just two hundred for the welding,
cash if you please.”
Welder Poem c 2020 David Michael Jackson