Burrows (poem)

burrows

you might not know that you are in the world

how strange when the surviving race

skates through the cleaner tunnels

At least in darkness, the mind populates

them, in this way, the rolling sliding sounds above

not heedless trains of trash-filled bins

or plotters sealing you in

And then the dim

arrives, as you rush, in your way, feeling and counting seams

between blocks

and faces of friends

appear, with a milky moonness

and food tumbles down the ladder-hole

to the heavy-printed passage floor

and the clang of the barred door

barely noticed, you are filling your shirt

and making off

Why are we wanted, someone benign

towards us, keeps us

but the way uptier

lies forbidden, are they uglier and dirtier

up there

Jumping Off

Her Bid for Freedom

(2025, Stephanie Foster)