Dante's Inferno, Canto III

Canto III here.

Previously, in Canto II: YOU WERE WORRIED OF THIS? YOU ARE A WET BIRD TO THEM, YES? YOU LOOK NOTHING LIKE WHAT IS GOOD.

The sign read: THIS HURTS ME MORE

THAN IT'S HURTING YOU. GET SETTLED,

YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE.

I saw a crowd a little further down

Gathered on the shore, seeming to champ at the bit

Like anxious commuters. Like they were late for the bus.

"What's the rush?" I asked. "Where's the fire?"

It was nothing. Just a joke! I knew where the fire was.

It was everywhere! Look, the mood had been a little tense.

In hindsight, yes, I'm sure he'd heard the joke before.

His reply: "You'll know when we get there."

But he said it in that way people make it clear they're mad?

Like something ate the end of the sentence

even as it's coming out of their mouths: "THere." FULL stop.

So that was the rest of the trip spoiled, in record time.

I made him hate me so fast! Time to look at my feet!

I ruined this trip before we left the gate! Time to

walk in silence forever, saying nothing!

Then I promise to live a blessed life, and call on God,

so that when I die I go to Heaven right away

and we never have to talk again!

Then: an old man in a boat. White hair, screaming,

the usual, shooing us off like pigeons: "I don't work for you!

Get out! Begone! Legally I don't have to do shit to you!"

"Everyone else, get in! Not you! I don't get paid for you!

The rest of you: Ass, grass, or gas! I hate you! Get in my boat!"

Then using his oar to push me off my feet: "You breathing bitch!"

But I'm surprisingly bottom-heavy. I mean I

never get pushed over. ("Way to plant, man," etc)

And Virgil spoke in my defense!

ARE YOU PAID TO ASK QUESTIONS? OR ARE YOU PAID TO PADDLE YOUR LITTLE BOAT FOR GHOSTS? EVERYONE WHO WALKS UNDER THE SUN OUTRANKS YOU. HAVE A SOUR CANDY AND PUSH SOME WATER

At which point Charon's eyes were a little on fire,

and he howled like a dog, but it was nothing

Virgil (my good friend Virgil) and I couldn't handle together

The spirits were afraid of his terrifying howling

but I felt pretty good. Honestly I felt fine. I had my cloak,

my best friend, my shoes, my stick. I felt fine.

The others couldn't win for losing – avoid the boat,

That's a paddling; get in the boat, that's a paddling.

Fall out of the boat? You'd best believe that's a paddling.

"You'll hate this boat – get in!" They got in like dead leaves,

Like dying birds, like trash. Everybody got littered in the boat.

Then thousands more replaced them on the bank like that.

THEY RUSH TO GET IT OVER WITH. YOU ASKED ME "WHERE'S THE FIRE." (Oh.) IS FIRE WORSE THAN WAITING FOR THE FIRE? WHAT DO YOU WANT THE MOST TO DO ON CLIFFS BUT JUMP?

More screams, more shades, more boat. The old man

screaming the whole time. Like I said, I felt fine

even when I passed out. There was just nothing left to see.

[Image via Wikimedia Commons]