The Player on the Bridge

/ /

Who did not, nor then, innocently die

Nor ever, die not meaning to, not know

-ing he would die, that where the body flies

From the bridge, the bridge will stop forever, though


The man about to leap first waves and smiles

Assesses first the task of climbing over

The railing, which leg first, first thinks a while

Begins to, thinking, play he’s thinking, over


-acting his part, rubbing his chin and Hmm

-ing loudly, glancing to his left, his right

Resetting then and slackening his arms

He’ll think for all the time in the world, the night


Beginning now to strip away the blues

Nobody notices until they’ve gone

Even though they go each night, each night seems new

From the sky. He starts the play again. Him on


-ly, for whose benefit? pretending not

To know how he will climb the railing, how

Surmount it, then to leap, for the parking lots

Beside, below, the bridge, those watching now


From the heavy seats, car doors like wings, he mimes

His thinking bigger, rubs more violently

His pinkened, tender chin. What’s all the time

In the world? Till it’s too dark to see the play