Alewife
We are a cyborg.
We are the pulpy corpuscles of a mechanized leviathan.
Flowing through tunnels and turnstiles, we bring it life.
Appeased, it chimes, and lurches southward.
Davis
Darkened windows, like mirrors, court our furtive glances.
Through garrulous protocol, undergraduates find their lost selves,
and then misplace them.
Porter
Steel muscles haul westward-bound spelunkers ever upward.
Our mother greets them at the surface.
Come morning, we will nurse from her again.
Harvard
Beneath book collectors and chess players,
beneath pan-handlers and pierced, leather-clad teens,
a guitar-wielding Cantabrigian croons Cohen for spare change.
Leviathan swells, and lumbers onward.
Central
Over aeons,
the erosive action of person-on-person petrifies the soul.
Molecule by molecule, ebullience gives way to acknowledgement,
just as carbon does for silicon.
Kendall
Wooden pendula quiver in defiance. A patient hand coaxes them into
motion.
Entrained, they dance, and eventually sing.
Charles
Leviathan leaps skyward, void yielding to moonlight and Citgo neon.
In a lazy arc we careen across the river, to Charles Street,
and the
city,
and beyond.