Ventilation shaft
aft.
Fresh air pumped out in a flash.
Upon crash dive a bell will sound, hold
tight
we're going underground.

Like moles who wish to buck the trend
I wish the constant night would end,
these tunnels that we make..
..me laugh.

Ventilation?
Call it gas.

****** in, trucked out, this is what life's all about, shifting shadows shape us into that which is the late
us.

Fluid chains of ether either here or in Ibiza,
ventilation from the shaft?
or just the same old laughing gas?