by C. S. Kraszewski.
I thought of the blind
And joyful obedience of dogs
As I stepped on the bridge, Fort Point side,
And headed north
Past the chain-link fence
That stands between despair
And the yard-thick main cable,
Where it sinks into the anchorage pylon
Like an orange leash
Disappearing
Into a tight concrete ham fist;
I thought of the prompt
Unquestioning trust of palmar nerves
And hypothenar muscles that grip
Firmly, the thick
Suspender cable;
And of bíceps brachii
Faithfully bearing the weight
Of the body as it’s eased over the rail
One leg — careful — two,
Onto the thin
Steel slats above the Warren truss;
And of the unfailing
Vestibular system shooting out
Arms at the warning barks of saccule
And utricle
When a sudden gust
Knocks the jumper off balance,
Whose eyes would take in one last
Time Coit Tower and the Transamerica
Pyramid and
Salesforce Tower
Which he’ll never see completed;
Poor quickened matter
Who live but to serve us, unworthy
Of your eager devotion, your love!
Is it hatred
Or sorrow you feel,
Or just pained amazement
When your front paw, shaved of fur,
Feels the sudden plunge of needle into vein,
The sudden treason
Of empty space,
The four-second absurdity?