Faulty Plumbing Poem by Mike Smith

If you move aside the false wall
And lift up the boards to reveal the access
(Assuming you're of the right shape and size)
You can crawl down under the church
24 inches between the dirt below and the floor above
Few have entered this dark subterranean world
A handful of plumbers maybe
Somehow I found myself in this miniature dungeon
As a favor to a friend
And (a bit) out of my own curiosity
There was rumor of a puddle that had formed
Somewhere beneath the men's bathroom
Some 40 feet away from the access
The water bill had been unaccountably rising
So I dove into the depths to investigate
After 20 feet of crawling the dirt below me grew moist
As I approached the space below the men's room
I saw the standing water
Five feet by five maybe
And at its heaviest a foot deep
A bit murky but not putrid
Not a dripping pipe to be found
But a telling noise was apparent
A rush of water seeping up from below
I couldn't amend it
Nor say for sure the root of the problem
A baby step of a troubleshoot
Pulling the cobwebs off of my face
I turned around and began the long crawl back to daylight
Leaving the murk and the filth behind
To be challenged again at a later date