Poem – Underworld

The past three months, I’ve forgotten to write and enter the Furious Fiction contest. Once again, the deadline slipped past, because of the torrent of emails that come in. I spent a productive 4am wake up stupid o’clock unsubscribing from many many things. Now it’s a case of working my way through the backlog of stuff and once again trying to ‘zero my inbox’.

Anyway, here’s the Furious Fiction prompt that I’m going to attempt to poem.

“The story must take place as some type of contest. It must include a character who forgets something. The story must include the words PRESS, FLING, and GROUND.”

What’s stuck in my mind is the most recent episode of my favourite WebToon: Lore Olympus. So, some idle ‘watching the work guys put up my new side fence’ time, and then into a new a poem.


The world above presses down.

I’ve been flung from above,

so I’m told.

I’m under ground, under world,

so under the weather that I’m dead.

I don’t remember.

Something or someone golden has left me here,

by the bank of an ice river.

A ferry comes silent,

hooded figure.

I have a coin in my hand.

There are others around me.

We all press forward

while wishing to press back.

I force my way through the insubstantial pack.

We drift and glide through each other,

light and dark as shade.

Our last striving moments, I feel.

Did I spend time up there,

wherever that is,

wanting, doing?

It’s all gone.

I am on the ferry,

but I don’t remember how.

I would be afraid,

if I knew how to do that.

I once did.


Am I dead?

I don’t remember.

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