The Ascent

The bar came down and clicked against my gut,

locking me into the vinyl and the heat.

The door to the hallway is already shut,

and I can't find the floor beneath my feet.

It’s the clack-clack-clack of the heavy chain,

pulling us up to the edge of the sky.

The pressure is building inside of my brain,

waiting for the moment the stomach goes high.

We haven't started the falling part yet,

we’re just tilting back in the rattling car.

The sun is a hot and indifferent threat,

and I’m holding the rusted and iron-cold bar.