Every Pressure in the Dark

At ten fathoms you can see the boat
Like a splinter that forgot to float.
At twenty fathoms all the red is dead,
Just an iron circle round your head.
Bite the rubber till the salt tastes sweet.
Keep the gravel underneath your feet.

Now the cold comes through the double sleeve,
This is easier than trying to leave.
Hear the bubbles as they leave the tongue,
Little silver bells that strike the lung.
Do not tell me what the morning said.
Count the current pulling on the lead.

Pull the cable till the gauges drop,
Tell the motor that it cannot stop.
Every pressure in the dark is kind,
Leave the waking of the world behind.

Thirty fathoms and the nitrogen
Tells you everyone comes back again.
It is singing like a telephone
To the calcium inside the bone.
You can dance along the continental shelf,
Never have to look upon yourself.

Pull the cable till the gauges drop,
Tell the motor that it cannot stop.
Every pressure in the dark is blind,
Leave the waking of the world behind.

There is oil upon the ocean floor,
Things that were not meant for air before.
Close your fingers on the heavy valve,
This is nothing that a word can salve.
Let the hammer rattle in the spine,
Drink the water that was never wine.

Now the surface is a distant ceiling,
Much too high for any human feeling.
All the copper needles in a row
Whisper what a diver ought to know.
I am breathing what the tanks provide.
I have buried everything inside.

Pull the cable till the gauges drop,
Tell the motor that it cannot stop.
Every pressure in the dark is mine,
Leave the waking of the world behind.