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Jo,
Someone has recently plastered the bridge
with hundreds of red and white stickers,
an image of a troll in the center.
I noticed a series of graffiti
on the couplings I found attractive—round
faces in succession—two bright colors.
My stride measured words of a manifesto
written in one long line on the planks—
beginning on the Williamsburg side.
I read a few phrases backwards and didn't
create any meaning—glad someone had
troubled to kneel to write, crouching slowly
toward Manhattan. Not all the bridge workers
wore their hard hats—humid this morning—I
tied my green corduroy jacket around
my waist. The city in its wet fog—thin
castles we play in and around.
Yours,
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