I keep trying to write about
the tunnels physically.
I keep thinking about
the tunnels cosmologically.
The tunnels, relatively,
have this unanticipated genius.
They don’t try to be anything else.
The connections they establish—
The wormholes they create
autonomously, anonymously, subconsciously,
Speaking of quantum mechanics,
rather, the machinations of quanta:
I both remember and uncertainly forget
this particular, rather, peculiar, period of particle acceleration.
Thermodynamically speaking, I used
to have a habit of moving too fast,
burning bridges serially, periodically.
the tunnels principally
ease my path.
Prepositionally, they do not take me
here, nor there, nor do they shuttle me
over or under—I no longer care.
The tunnels realistically, metaphorically
allow me to get through.