Eric Falci

Map. Caves that Became Rivers

And still, much of the time was left unmapped:
The three paths of water beneath Yucatan,
Cancún, or the undone strands of sunlight

Here. Like those channels hids in shallow seas
This day's groove would fork, forge, merge with so much
During its life from river to rivulet.

I becomes adjacent to what actually
Happens: the sidewalk cellar doors

Like sinkholes to an underworld of bones
And produce, occasional wells of leaves
Draw light up/down along a shaft of trees,

This as stones diverting the slow stream,
Or caverns underground (hollow mouth,
Full of lack, bellying the water).

The insertions were simple enough: just drop
Yourself in from boat or bus, loaded
With airtank, notebook, tokens, time, and this.

Most of the trouble came with the exit:
Following the rope coils back from blue,
Finding ways out of the silence of sky

Or sea, whether here or far below
A peninsula in Mexico. Pause.

If you read this, change Mexico to you,
Exit to sea, and here to then, opening.