The Bridge

by | Oct 10, 2023 | Issue Thirty-Five, Poetry

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.

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