Snake Work

Below the plaster, past the gloss Where all clean surfaces come across There runs the burden, hot and black The loaded pipe, the service track Under the hallway, under the praise Under the managed, temperate days There hum the lines that take the strain And carry off what will not remain Not the bright room Not the framed view But the hand in the dark Keeping all of it true Snake work Down where the house sends weight Snake work Late enough to be called too late Snake work Mud, wire, sump, and seam Snake work Holding up the civil dream Lift the grate and check the flow Count what polite rooms never know Grease and pressure, ash and lime Failure waiting under time Somebody climbs where no one claps Seals the breach and minds the gaps Takes the weather, keeps the leak So the centre may stay mild all week Not the smooth word Not the nice tone But the hand in the cold Keeping comfort at home Snake work Down where the house sends weight Snake work Late enough to be called too late Snake work Mud, wire, sump, and seam Snake work Holding up the civil dream No honour board No glass award Just the hiss of pressure Being brought back toward No clean applause No polished name Only the hidden virtue Of preventing flame Snake work Down where the house sends weight Snake work Past the polished and the straight Snake work Rust, load, footing, line Snake work Making other people's order shine Snake work Done where the bright walls end Snake work By the rougher kind of friend Snake work What the centre does not see Snake work Still part of what it owes to be Under the hallway Past the gloss The burden runs And bears the house