There’s this river underground

the birds sing of it as though

it were a gem as though a gem

 

were something they had interest in

though perhaps my translators

but no don’t let me blame them

 

this river at times packed

with grey slush moving fast

enough that the fish wish they

 

had eyes but here on the lost

real estate development the

philosophers have left

 

with the fabled food trucks

that won’t return