Can You Drown In Cardboard? Poem by Patrick O'Reilly

Say, Bill, can ya quite drown in cardboard?
You see, I'm in over my head
I think I am dead, I've been walking all day
I can feel my bones groaning in under my sheet
I can hear the stray babe crying inside her womb
Baying,500 miles away
But I can't see no sign of ivy, no chance of wrought iron
No hope in hell for Hemingway and the lot
Just matchbox-wall shelves,
Steel and corugated cardboard, sweat-heavy and brown
Say, Bill, can ya quite drown in cardboard?
I believe I'm 'bout ready to drown.