Bridge

i can’t cross into new york city
across the george washington bridge without
thinking about all the letters i meant to write to people filled faces hid behind

through bronx filled places and streets with places
as indifferent as you and me
finding beauty in dirty brick, sweaty shows and musty shit
the world still spinning fast
story in behind those bars
broken worlds and kalidescope glass

But we’ve jumped the hedges
with nothing on the other side
and we’ve sat on ledges
watching from high above the tide
going somewhere
we could’nt’ve been before

and we’ve watched the airplanes
going to someplace far
seen then from the dirt going somewhere low
while they take the people
i’ve never seen

and we’ve stumbled sidewalks
tripped them in our boots
stayed out of the drain grates and
ended up where we weren’t

so tired but sometimes
so inspired bewildered
and in love with something
we’ve never met
and history yet unseen

that diesel smells always
reminds me of being exactly here right about now

these neon lights and cheap motels
styrofoam coffee and sleeping bags

~
but i am going elsewhere
not here but maybe it’ll look like here
i have no way to know
i just hope not

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