POEM TO THE EDITOR

South Main Street

When I was a bit too young, a girl and I
snuck into the city’s sewers. We crawled

through narrow places with trickling water,
splashing in puddles and neat little streams

I watched her bend beneath concrete and pipes,
strain to look up at the drains that filtered in

light from some half-recognized street, and
I thought of other secret places. We burst into

light, unearthed near some computer repair shop
and made our way out from a large concrete

culvert, new armpit hair moist with sweat,
tickling my arms. We ended up on the sidewalk,

South Main Street, and walked back to her house
with soggy shoes, hands almost brushing.

GIANLUCA AVANZATO
Oneonta
Editor’s Note: Avanzato has just published “City of the Hills,” poems about his native city.