Forget Cool

I’ve been thinking about heaven and I’ve decided

by Erin Keane

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maybe it’s like the moment in The Last Waltz
when we cut away from the Winterland

and join The Band on a soundstage. Suddenly
there’s no live audience, only the silent director,

a crew somewhere off-camera, and Levon
in a fresh shirt starting us off on “The Weight”

with the Staples Singers joining in, all of them
lit sunset warm and a great vast nothing

beyond the edge, something like peace spreading
across Robbie’s face as he plays. What is life

but a story of misadventures and small favors
derailed? What could an afterlife be but a chance

to capture the perfect take, run it again
for all eternity, whatever five-and-a-half-minute

cut of yours that would make Mavis whisper
beautiful like that to let you know

you were done

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