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Topic: Under The Bridge (Read 241 times) |
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Jeepgun
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Under the Bridge
Under the railroad bridge world shot in dusk gray night black rust cinders trash and graffitied girders you emerge clutching a bouquet to the bright breast of your dress and your eyes give away the things you open your mouth to sob those fatal words and lose the rest of what I don't want to hear in the wash of the screaming subway passing with windows full of mute blind faces as if heartbreak is a spectator sport illuminated in stark half-light of the speeding train.
Thrust the flowers into my hands as a few dying scarlet petals waft to the oily dirt that hold me mesmerized and blinded by the slowly spreading red haze that fills up my head and I know that when I look up again you will be gone just as surely as if you had never been leaving only your flowers like the calling card of a serial killer. With the next train that roars through splitting me open with sound and light I open my mouth to scream my lament howling a thousand words that no one will ever hear as tears erupt from my swelling eyes that obscure my vision as I stumble through the gates to board the outbound express that doesn't stop all night until the end of the line in the farm country and I fall asleep dreaming into the chlorine blue.
Conductor wakes me pensively and I stumble from the train in morning drizzle, still holding your flowers now rumpled and limp with sweat tears and sleep that has exhausted my body and I see the place where we once sat on a blanket gazing at the clouds watching strange and fantastic animals take shape and mutate and then running laughing to the station in the pouring rain that soaked us to the bone just as surely as if we had swam in the canal on whose banks you collected wildflowers so long ago. Standing on the edge I let your flowers slip from my fingers as the water resurrects their bright colors again, only to swallow them in green-blue embrace and sweep them away in the current as your memory is softened and faded and I wander slowly back to the train station in the whispering rain.
-Frank H. Weeden
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nani
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Re: Under The Bridge
« Reply #1 on: Jan 12th, 2005, 11:27am » |
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