On Bridges of course with No one in Particular
March 30, 2008
Grey steel matter swinging but you can’t feel it, scary does it make everything
long arch, sweat beading down your greasy forehead, that baggage lady cruising up the walkway with a cart full fo money.
you make it to one tower, looking at what you have accomplished, a city before you, but wirefencing from Williamsburg blocks your view, for you see, others saw this and leapt off, hoping that thy wear carried on wings of grace, that fool Icarus.
Pissing on cars going udnerneath you causes a major rukus, they honk and yell, but creatures of the earth cannot harm the creatures of the air. Holding my girlfriends hand, sweat beads down between our palms and we both have this smitten look on our faces. First instance of puppy love, with the occasional I love Yous and long laborious phonecalls grants me this please to have that beautiful body stand next to me. That firey hair that is top knotted and guarded like that child in time-out. the downward slope of the bridge brings us racing towards the bottom, plunging straight into downtown Manhattan, Dad is already there.
Yet, I can remember this all, as Dad and I on standing at our usual spot, watching people go by while I am munching on two dollar dumplings from a shanty.
Why this bridge?
