My friend Ellen, who's been near-mute ever since
We saved her from that gang that tried to cook her,
Breaks her weeklong silence. Murmurs "Bridge."
Oh. Scrap lumber on this roof. And so we build
A wooden cantilever as wobbily absurd
As Doctor Seuss. Snag pyramid!

The portal's blocked by wild dogs big as wolves.
Ellen leaps past me. Snarling they go for her throat.
She wrestles. Knows she can't win, can't survive,
Distracts the Cerberus pack so I can slip by alive
To bring truth back. I dive through battle. Behind,
The pack rips Ellen's flesh.

A dog slogs up, lugging her head. Wish I'd been
Spared his smug grin. We don't snuff out, I'm going in
Exactly because we can return; all that makes recall
To life so hard is our reluctant cling to clear astrality.
But still it hurts to see. Now I must succeed: to justify
Ellen's sacrifice of body.

Within the pyramid: a hotel lobby, small and shabby,
Where Gaia the Earth Goddess watches a movie
As if she's a senile sofa lady. But a heavy eye's
On me. Up limps an ancient man. "I'm sleepy." Lies
Down on a faded cushion. Dies.

To return, I can't ebb like gentle him. One step in...
Look round, alive in death. No more door! But this
Can't be all! So small, so dim, so tame. So I lope
Toward Gaia's whispering movie screen,
The Door beyond the Door through Death.
Remembering Ellen, I sprint up to the flicker,
Dive again. The world goes silver.