“The River Bridge” by David Troupes

05 September 2011 on Poetry   Tags:

I

She leaves in the heat -- leaves
the pesky town, the children still gummed
with summer,
those hydrants of bile,
the cinders and glass, and the putrid dogs --
rises
with the windows down and the air punching
around her -- rises
with a rush of engine, a rush of mind
pas the constriction, into the dilating cold, delivered
from the dregs of quotidia.

II

Glides
the bridge,

rolls
through peace,

over the river's
glass teeth,

as from the railing
and the wind comes

a welter
of suicide.

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