The Underworld

         That place to which our loves
                     have been consigned after perishing 
from snake bite—    To which they've been 
         abducted and exiled after a crack 
                     in the earth opened—    A lustful god 
tore them off the sidewalk or out of the fields  
         like flowers—   It's characterized 
                     as a place from which there's no hope
of return; still, stories of negotiation
         abound—   Throw sweet breads to the dog
                     with three snarling heads—   Appeal
the terms of passage—   A mother says, trade you 
         six months of the year for six kernels 
                     of crimson fruit the girl 
couldn't help put in her mouth, so desperate 
         was her hunger—   Play heart-rendingly 
                     on your instrument so as to move
the coldest juror and melt the prison bars—  Blindness
         and the long road back—   A shorn head, loosened
                     cuffs; chains snapped for a body restored—