Thursday, January 5, 2012


You feel alone, as you climb my steel side,
But you are the same as all the others, all alone,
Who come at night, more often after rain,
To mount my rails robotic in the metal light.
Some jump, some drop, but all fall alone,
Ride silent a moon shaft to the river’s skin,
A muffled shot their end.

The river throws up its arms , always throwing up its arms,
As if to say: ‘Again? You toss another life at me?’
But it never rejects the offer,
Always slides that life inside its cold pocket,
As time rewinds,
The water fingers fold back into place
And the river’s face as if nothing happened.

The river lies.
I know a light just died in a home someplace.
The river never stays to listen.
I am a constant, a coefficient,
I dampen commerce’s restless leg
My backbone carries the current of the city
I take the warmth of rubber and internal combustion
And through my arms and legs on the banks
I bury it deep in the earth.

You feel that, through your feet on my rails,
Your hands on my cables? That mantric hum?
There is more life in me than in that shifting creek;
Beneath its scales there is no buzz
Just a wet muffle,
Where you would be dissolved cold as a fish.
In the river you will stay alone, disconnected.

But my ribs sing to you the world out there.
Step down and press your cheek against my deck
Let me relay your heartbeat
Share my heat with you
And make chords with your sighs.

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