Notes From The Overground

If she’s immortal
I’ll take the dive
If she’s human
I’ll take that too

I want to have now
this table
these drinks
the stale smoke in the air

I want to crawl
into the wall
rest against the low hum
of the air conditioner ducts
and eyeball her lips blind
till the debris
layers a permanent
metallic taste
on my lips
drawing deep breaths
until the roof caves in

So we leave
calling each other by name
maybe even embrace
on the way to the car
where I take pills
to instill the fear of god
dry pills that cling to
my stomach lining six months
down the throat

But I’m still stuck
in the wall
sucking up the damp air
and praying for rain
praying for snow
© Doug Dvorkin