POEM TO THE EDITOR South Main Street When I was a bit too young, a girl and I snuck into the city’s sewers. We crawled through narrow places with trickling water, splashing in puddles and neat little streams I watched her bend beneath concrete and pipes, strain to look up at the drains that filtered in light from some half-recognized street, and I thought of other secret places. We burst into light, unearthed near some computer repair shop and made…