*plumbing*

When the water goes I
Come quick, wrench in hand
Tool box at the ready

The pipes are coming up where
They should be sliding down
Some underwear, hair,
And blood spurting out.

Just force it back in, clamp
It all down and head back home

But from house to house, you peer
Through the tubes like
Telescopes to somewhere you
believe you remember
But can’t

A piece at a time,
Glimpsing skin,
bones, teeth, and varicose veins

There is someone down in there, stretched
Like puddy beneath our foundations

they are moving, grunting,
standing, sitting,
eating,
talking and listening
there's a microphone there
in the faucet, recording one drip at a time

Ear to the toilet, a newscast
clogs and mixes with
an advertisement filling up the sink,
the women spilling out the tub

you're mapping it,
every house call more vivid
you can almost see

it unclogging you, mapping you back

to whence you came
a thousand eyes for every home
knowing all the inches
of branches where
you are the foliage, only

leaves

And up from the ground you
Feel something growing
A Tree, a Fruit

plumbs