Below the River

Today I walk across a parking lot 
thinking about water. If you live 
in a town near a river you can stand 
next to it while it repeats itself 
endlessly, which is how a friend once 
described his factory job to me. 
Years ago a student sat in my office 
and told me that she was injured 
on the job, got her arm caught 
in a machine, some contraption 
that twisted it and tore it wide open 
so that it could not be put back together. 
Her grief rose up from deep waters, 
the river below the river. 
This will not be one of those working-class- 
hero poems, one of those celebrate-
the-proletariat poems as I wrench
the shopping cart out 
of its cage, try to free
it from the others as more
and more of them thunder over 
the rough pavement on their way 
to rejoin the pack. I recall her voice 
travelling swiftly 
like it could find its way 
down any number of
paths, like it could 
hop a train out of one lost
city and find a bigger, brighter one. 
She looked at me as if I knew 
the real forces of water,
all of its whorls 
and eddies, the rise
of its depths.

Nancy Botkin’s chapbook The Honeycomb was the 2022 winner at Steel Toe Books. Her full-length collection, The Next Infinity, was published by Broadstone Books in 2019.  Her poems have been widely published in journals such as december, Poetry East, Flying Island, The Indianapolis Review, and Eclipse. She is an editor at Wolfson Press and a retired Senior Lecturer at Indiana University South Bend. 

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