H. D. calls the Poetry Crisis Line

COUNSELOR: Poetry Crisis Line, what is your emergency?

CALLER: The sea called—

COUNSELOR: No kidding! What did it say?

CALLER: you faced the estuary,

COUNSELOR: Cool. What did I see there?

CALLER: you were drowned

COUNSELOR: I was WHAT???

CALLER: as the tide passed.—

COUNSELOR: Righ. Um…

CALLER: I am glad of this—

COUNSELOR: What have I ever done to you?

CALLER: at least you have escaped.

COUNSELOR: No I haven’t. My shift doesn’t end until midnight.

 

From “Loss” by H. D. Read the original here.