james john

by Nicholas Barnes

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My walks never go near

The big green bridge.

God knows I've never walked it,

Only crossed it in a car.

I fear my dental records

Will be the only identification:

203 feet is a long way down.

I won't be the first,

And I won't be the last

To think of what that water

Would do to your bones.

They’d discover me in that tomb,

That basilica underbelly,

Arches sprawling over glass,

Over catacombs abandoned.

They'd find me, and say:

What a nervous wreck.

Fish food now, but I heard

He was happy enough.

Daily thoughts about death,

The void, the absurd, about

What I’d do if I was up there,

Straddling steel and bedrock,

With the 24/7 hotline number

And headlights cheering me on.

I'm scared to walk that crossing

Because I don't want to die,

I just want to stop feeling this way.

And I'm afraid of what I'd learn

About myself if given the chance.