The Hell of dreams


as I stare into my lowball of gin, I wonder
if I did OD a few years back, if Christine failed
to save me, despite my accusations.

perhaps, I did OD and got a momentary
stay at the Bar in the Sky only to be
shoved down to a hell worse than
Dante’s visions.

perhaps, I’m dead right now, and in the
real world people have moved on, only barely
visiting my grave, while I sit right here,

on this teetering barstool swilling bathtub gin. after
all, everything got
worse since the day she
saved my life.