So I’m dead.

I’m just lying here, at the bottom of the Thames

My memory is murky like the water

But I’m slowly remembering what happened

I was in my single, doing a sprint

And then I flipped

And I slowly sank to the bottom

Having lost all will to swim back up again

I just stopped, and realized

That I didn’t have to

My boat is capsized and my oars

Flail about like the fins of a fish with epilepsy

Someone might eventually come for me

I’m guessing the coach will call the river marshalls

He’s going to be pissed

So much paperwork to fill out

Not my problem, he can’t yell at me now

I’m just a bit confused

I always believed in Heaven

But see, I’m here on the bottom of the Thames

Watching the beer cans float by above my head

I’m sinking comfortably into the squishy muck

And I don’t mind at all

I always loved how the mud felt on my feet

I could try swimming back up but I’m dead

And I’d much rather lie here instead