I used Ezra Pound's poem as inspiration to write my own.

 

 

In a station of the subway,

doors are quickly cut in halves.

Enter a sea under hot air,

every day at six-oh-five.

 

Weary eyes stare at the darkness

that our coach has left behind.

 

A labyrinth with grimy walls and arrows

dizzyingly leads the way to different paths.

Now near the surface the sun rises,

I grasp for breath: birthed into the ground.