The Tunnel Beneath The Hiss  

The night an engineer finds a tunnel

beneath the river by our town

I run my fingers down inside

the fur of a purring feline.

It perks its ears. I moor my legs

to a different crossings.


The tunnel has remained

a soporific kraken,

drooling down its chins,

because we’ve forgotten

to churn out the apocalypse,


because someday a subway

shall plan to invade

the river bed and awaken the burden

of nightmares unfed.


I pour the cat-food. Go back to sleep.

Nothing happens outside;

within, a beast hisses, I gnaw deep,

hide in a pit, darker than this one,

and my cat moans –

she knows how my id burnt down

the town of peace

when you found me before, tried to

inhabit my flesh and soul,

placed a doormat, tore out the fence

inhibiting my neighbourhood.

Why? You cried, the cat knows, and I growled,

“This is a tunnel of lone lore asleep.”






Kushal Poddar
Photo Nick Victor

This entry was posted on in homepage and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to The Tunnel Beneath The Hiss  

    1. My late friend, WS Merwin once told me- even if you do not understand a particular poem, but like reading and re-reading it to yourself, that’s good poetry. Wonderful poetry. And the cat is the image of my late, Sally, who lived 20 years and 3 months! Thank you.

      Comment by Edward P Johnston on 19 December, 2020 at 8:48 pm

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.