Poem by Justin Karcher
The Bridges of Erie County
By Justin Karcher
I don’t know how many bridges
are in Erie County
but I did a Google search
and found a report from 2017
concluding that 52 bridges in Erie County
are structurally deficient
for this poem, we will assume
those are the only bridges in the county
and that they have always been structurally deficient
just like the people who live here
but that’s not a bad thing
it just means that we’re still standing against all odds
understandably there are a few cracks in our chests
that maybe every now and again we give in to lust
but lust means many things
like whatever disrupts your dulling complacency
or whatever makes your heavy heart disappear temporarily
just something to make your legs and eyes ascend
oh the things we do to rise above our self-imposed
deficiency, the things we do to connect
with the world around us, how we’re always rising above
a river or lake of tears, how we’re good neighbors
right? how we do anything to carry our loved ones
through their depression, through their breakdowns
we spend our nights with mirrors convincing ourselves
we’re bridges that bend toward the common good
dreaming up fairytales, like looking for lost lovers
in the pre-brunch dawn, following their footprints
in the Sunday snow while the wind transforms skin
into stained glass because the idea of connection is holy
we spend our mornings with mirrors convincing ourselves
it’s good to be target practice for a sun
that just wants to paint from one place to the next
and that’s okay, changing our clothes every three seconds
because maybe we don’t know who we are yet
there’s the deficiency but something more, so we carry on
even on the weekends when we all go missing
when we warm up like cars on fire
but with the radios still turned on
and playing the week’s most popular pop songs
despite all the ash, we will always do whatever it takes
to stay lively, the opposite of a ghost in a ghostly world
like how we’re always walking around crowded bars
and asking everyone to share their location
because it’s a thing
because you like how their little faces look
as they move through life on your phone map
always connecting you to whatever they’re doing
because you like knowing that you can drop everything
at a moment’s notice and carry them to the finish line
if you ever see them slowing down, maybe feed them soup
made from vegetables plucked from your garden
or maybe replace the river rocks with pillows
when they decide to jump from a bridge in the moonlight
