For Hart Crane The bridge hung over dark waters there was a place to get on if you wanted to go somewhere there were painted parts where the graffiti had been covered there were torn down posters and fagins the city you could see from the river was the heights the only place I ever sat was by one end looking out over my home and scorning the people and the changing lights but still for all it hung there was one place the bridge could not take you. The bridge threw sand in the eyes of space which hung over dark waters like a proposition reaching for ever absent ears only a phone call away. Clogged with such sediment The medium was the message Washing up on all sides; So when the time came When I was feeling all at sea The truth in the water Was cold and clear. The bridge flew upward With the rushing depths And the sky above The bridge hung over And I was a spear in the ravine Plunging my cranial heart to see.
Will Staveley’s poetry has been featured in Poetry Quarterly, Dawntreader, Three Line Poetry, Hebenon, and Poet’s Republic amongst other journals. He is also an Acumen Young Poet, was runner-up for the 2021 erbacce poetry prize, and is looking for an unlikely home for his book-length imaginary translations of Ezra Pound’s Cathay. He currently lives in London.