night falls. nature calls. you hesitate to leave your comfy state of rest. but lo the sewers flow beneath the moon’s autumnal glow: “we are here” sewers call, “we will serve until dawn.” ‘and on and on,’ you reply. you flush. a hush. rest well. the sewers say goodnight.
if your sewer utility doesn’t write you poetry it doesn’t mean they don’t love you, it means they love you differently.
@neorsd through stony halls of human make the hallowed path our waste does take eternally descending ‘neath ancient earth and slab & clay marching onward night or day mournfully, unending with epithet assigned, “refuse” our bodies done, no further use, relievedly expending
@neorsd Beneath the moon's Autumnal glow, The sewers sing, "You've got to go!" Then I awake From troubled sleep, And down the hall I softly creep... To answer that insistent call That makes night-walkers Of us all. O, moon of mists And summer's end! To all who watch At night, the friend.
@neorsd Making colorfully beautiful art in unexpected places - Cleveland is the best 🤗