When Poem by Morgan Michaels

When I sweat the big sweat
Shut my eyes
Shudder, die and descend
To the Stygian shore
(which may look alot like the Hudson-
Only darker-sliding) ,
I will quickly locate the ferry gate
And after only a little wait
Offer its famous boatman a poem-
Claiming it my only fare.

Then, I expect, he'll sniff 'what's this for',
(having seen every form of coercion)
Shake it out, fully, and moving his lips
Begin to read it, leaning on his oar.

I further expect, as he reads, to see brightening
His ancient eyes, and a smile
To race his dour face;
Then finishing the now-damp poem
He'll look me appraisingly, up and down,
Sigh, tip cap and say,

'All aboard, Sir, there's a seat for you here,
estimable shade, your table is waiting-
people are expecting you, there
on the other side.
No one said you'd be coming today-
How's the weather up there, anyway?
I sincerely hope you'll enjoy your stay
and find everything here to your liking'.