At the Bridge

Maybe it is the warm breath of the praire
Or what follows it
That brings me here to a place over water

I've scattered the remnats of other lives
From one shore to the next because
Someone told me this continent
Had no end and i believed her

Yet there was a city on the edge i revisited
Just to try to walk down one street
To see for myself the old hotels, the balances
On each end of a turn of events
I might have understood

Once on a boardwalk, near an ocean whose salt air
Burned my lips, a woman drinking
From a bottle with a shattered neck
Turned her torn and laughing mouth to me
Saying, "kiss me, love me."
The clouds muddy her water below. Why whould I expect

Anymore, here, in the center of things
At the Praire Du Chien where there is just a bridge
And a river – the conditions are clear
The bridge, a thread loosening in my hands, the river
A needle dripping