Found Poems #2

RIDING ON THE KING'S HIGHWAY

Each subway stop
from King's Highway to Central Park
is like old Dante's journey
through Hades in the dark.
No one sees the oarsman;
they know their leveled Hell,
and don't need to be told, "Get off!"
They know their lives quite well.

But Vik and I were for the ride,
to gauge the elevation.
Though she knew well the taste of Hell,
she memorized each scene,
and hoped to find God drinking
at the Tavern on the Green.

sk/sep84