Should you go to descend
Those infamous seven abysses,
Beware of the bones you’ll find.
I am not one for spelunking
In karst dolomites of my mind.
Endless mineshaft’s metal cage,
Canaries for the gasses;
From Flemish sellers
Brought those birds, sold by
Old oblast-men with molasses.
Rattling seven strata through,
No safety gear, no time for fear,
Down to a sunken pool;
Its secret waves will gently spool:
Thoughts are born in here.
Arriving in your evening light,
Sunsets seen renewed!
There’s no such thing as death
I said, collapsed on our bed
In a miner’s welfare cottage.
I love going on journeys with you, especially the ones we’re not supposed to be allowed to accompany the narrator on! And then I get so lost in the allegory, I have to revisit it for the craft itself. The thoughts are born sooooo deep down there! I liked that we came to the surface again, and the ambiguous ending in which no such thing as death could be a good thing or a bad thing from the narrator’s perspective.
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