Dante’s Map of Hell: City of Dis (or What Happened One Night Next to Whippy Dip)


for Dani

There’s a quiet hell under some

hats.  It’s not one of Inferno’s


and there is no divinity there.  People forgot

that God is just an extension of them-


selves, so have fractioned off into various

forms of inept life.   The comedy is that


there is nothing but tragedy because of voices


being silenced.  In order to live one must learn

coping mechanisms.  She opens her eyes from yet another


sleepless night that she pretends to have soundly

slept through.  Truth is she hasn’t been able to


sleep for years without being drugged

somehow or she’s dragged by some memory


she has committed to forget.  She preferred the ones that quieted


the sound of her pulse.  Out of that heart of hers

so badly beaten because of laws named by some


Murphy fellow, a rush of words holding on to some


fragment of time, which may have,

~at one point, soothed her

but now find themselves being nasty sirens


haunting the night.  It’s living next


to the hospital across the street


from a coke bar named Antigua Blue.  One night,

a stabbed, bleeding man came pounding, pounding,


pounding, pounding terror on her front door, the blue


neon painting their faces green. While he covered her

~body in his life, she had to hold

~herself up. Her young boy sleeps


soundly in the room directly behind the doorknob

holding her up as he drifted completely


away from his wounded body.



  1. Some very powerful imagery in the poem.

  2. like this one….love dante too.

  3. Reblogged this on disdainfulbeauty.

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