Inspired by Tyler Gonlag’s poem “the underworld” in Guernica, the story continues in this second stanza.
my response was composed and measured, a verbatim
account of a sinister elegy overheard
in the Styx. oh that for one time she wouldn’t
berate me for my choice, for the cannonball running
of my hippocampus. take your designs I exclaim
already navel-gazing in defeat. her verbal
karate has me beat myself, on a grizzly bearing
due past. but you can kiss my ass if you think
I’m finished. my sixth sense portends the return
of Psyche and my hopes are pinned on this tale
continuing. a verdant future awaits
me before the red velvet curtains are drawn.