…birdflew…

-I sucker-punched heaven once. Now heaven sends an unending string of bastards to kick me in the heart, and we call it even.

-In rehab.

-Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me?

-In the nuts!

-In the teeth.

-I would prefer to finger, rather than kick, heaven.

-Kick heaven in the shin.  There’s something that amuses me about the thought of heaven scowling, hopping up and down on one figurative leg, sucking air between its pearly white teeth.

-Barefoot and outside in the backyard, at night.  Down and dirty and in the eye.

-In the ass.

-At the Methodist clinic.

-I would kick heaven outside of the grocery store while it is carrying a few shopping bags. I’d kick it in the ass and then hopefully have time to run away before it put down the shopping bags to chase me.

-I’ve already kicked heaven. Heaven, as it is classically defined, sounds dreadfully boring.
Good girls go to heaven. Bad girls go everywhere.

-1998: Heaven refutes my existence and I, it.
  1999: I play the “I’m-not-touching-you” game until the universe smacks me and then we eat brownies and  watch the Simpsons.
 2000: I used to kick heaven. Now, I just beat it with a stick until candy comes out.
 2001:I’m a masochist.  Heaven kicks me and I like it.  Please sir, may I have another?
 2002: Heaven has a restraining order against me. I have a restraining order against heaven.
 2003:June found me at 23rd and Broadway, Madison Square Park.  I stood in the park, took off my stockings, took off my shoes and looked around. I took a deep breath.  This is therapy for the uninsured.  When rich people need therapy, they lay on upholstered couches in Upper East Side psychiatrists’ offices but when you’re down and out, any place will do.  I yelled and yelled and waved my arms aordnu, which is to say, around, but far closer to the actual movement.  Then, I put on my stockings and shoes, picked up my portfolio and got on the N train like the fitter, happier and more productive person I am. 

So to answer the question,I kicked heaven in Madison Square Park, barefoot, in the afternoon, surrounded by sleeping homeless, and while shouting obscenities.  I planted a big one in its dimpled cellulite ass.  Heaven applauded at my vaudeville act and made me lactose-intolerant.

-In the teeth.  Because teeth are easily accessible and there are a lot of them, you can do maximum damage.