the diving bell
is cracked
deformations
as the pressure
in undulating
currents caress
the brass dome
providing oxygen
from a surface
long gone to myth
spots flicker
across fading
visions of sunlit
mornings spent
lounging lazily
as heavy limbs
disturb the mass
of settled silt
decreasing visibilty
as each step leads
into a potentially
endless abyss

can you recall
the humming stings
as the wasps circle
mindless creatures
bent on inflicting
violence from
paper mache mansions

or the steady ringing
as the weight presses
downdowndown upon
your skull leaving
vertiginous streaks
in rancid filth to
saturate each benignly
breathless attempt
at screaming for help

swimming in a pool of
shimmering malignancies
flaring out over
the blindspot in
god’s milky cataract
no longing searching
for a fresh escape
just a six foot divot
in an endlessly shifting
ocean of frail discontent