The Runner Upstairs by Jeanne Julian

After dwelling where the only morning sounds
were squabbling geese, cicadas, purr of a passing
johnboat and its wake wheedling squeaks

from the dock, you’d think this daily pounding,

the rhythmic thump of footfalls from above
accompanied by a soundtrack’s rumbling

bass-notes rattling our lamps—evoking Thor
flat-footed on a thunder-powered treadmill—

would be at best annoying, at worst,
a sign that condo life was a misguided choice.
But no. Nestled in our last (perhaps) haven,
our corner of the sacred hive, we harken

to the hubris of youth, and mildly rejoice.



Jeanne Julian of South Portland, Maine, is co-winner of Reed Magazine's Edwin Markham Prize (2019). Author of Like the O in Hope and two chapbooks, she has published poems in Comstock Review, Kakalak, Poetry Quarterly, Naugatuck River Review and other journals. She reviews books for The Main Street Rag. www.jeannejulian.com