Mass Pike in Boston • Raymond Cavanaugh

there’s something Dante-esque
about descending into the bowels
of the city
careening through the hellish tunnels
rubber scorching asphalt
asphalt peeling rubber
during the dash
from work
from home
from countless other prisons
and all for what?
maybe it’s just the convict’s thrill of escape
and what a thrill it must be
to engage
and chase each other down
like an overwhelming reality