Another Digging

In droll thought morbid I sit
in the funk of my dispiritedness like some
skulking ill intentioned badger
burrowing deeper into those darkened depths,

a kamikaze pilot has a last grin,
though if there was humor found
it was by the devil's design,
only Hell awaits a man who digs far enough,
only a demon chorus could chuckle
in torment's direction,

the world
everything in it
trying desperately to save me
collapses behind me in a tomb of
my own making,
my own burial,
a very Seamus Heaney digging.

TA