If I was afraid of elevators—I am

because, sometimes I have a feeling

they’ll take me someplace

other than where I told them to

and the doors will open up

into utter darkness——there’ll be

a sound there, something scraping

like bones rumbling—and it’ll

quiet down, when it sees me

standing there—hitting DOOR CLOSE

firmly and silently; I’ll look into the dark

and the dark will look into me

the doors will close—we’ll share a laugh

——and so, the next time

you take an elevator

or however else you intend to

die——I hope you end up where

you’re trying to go

and think on where you may end up