Stale,
Mild,
Foul maybe,
Or sweet to be,
But Iād for sure agree
Iām for sure smelling
Ammonia-
At least surely from up high.
Inhaling
Makes me nauseous
And suffocate.
Cant distinguish between left or right
When I drink.
But when I eat,
Itās all the same
When I get sick
It defyās away
And when I listen-
Itās all so fuzzy,
But when I hear-
Itās all so inaudible,
And I guess
So-
I guess
I canāt really hear anything.
Nothing but infrequent-
Groans and growls,
Or low swooshing
Nothing much to make out,
If I could open my eyes
Iād see things die
And when I do-
Youād think itād be blue
But down here
Thereās nothing
To see.
But maybe a flashlight
Maybe a light
That youād have to leave from,
Discard
In a fright.
And so how I feel-
What I feel,
Well I feel this
And I feel that
And I feel those
And wow to a great extent,
But the deeper I go
The lower you flow
The further you float-
I canāt feel anything.
In fact itās quite cold,
Iād even say glacial,
But thereās no Jack Frost nipping at your nose,
Thereās no snow.
Things move but not down with me,
Things zoom and travel right past me-
And so far,
Nothingās come from up or down,
And itās too cold to frown.
I canāt cry or feel-
My-
Self sigh.
When I sigh itās a low gurgle.
When I cry- well,
I canāt.
And with my eye,
There are no stars
When I look up-
I canāt see mars
When I look down-
I canāt see a town,
Or a cloud,
Or anybody out,
Because Iām not in the sky.
And so
And so
And sink
I sink
I fall-
And float-
But never up.
I fall slow
I donāt glide,
And there will never be-
Any place to hide,
Nobody to confide-
In,
Unless theyāve died.
