Charon

in dante's insomnia, it's divine comedy

all night long, and stepping outside

into a bleached-bone dawn, you see 

venice and your taxi is Charon, 

holding an incense lantern which swings 

wildly in the windless air.

He asks if you want pennies for your eyes

but you'll be fine, fine, you want your sight.

pennies, says he, is what most people see,

but all right, and he rows backwards

through time, until dusk limns the horizon -

and you're still in bed at 1am

feeling like a seasick dog with three heads

and no one who will ever know.