issue 44, 2009
The Bridge and the Blue Chair
The Mississippi threads its tendrils around concrete
holding the structure’s skeleton upright.
It is a cosmic eyesore, this bridge…
the dark narrow stretch of the river
and the ice forming a mask around the banks.
Footing is slick and the walkers watch
each step. There is a long dream that ends here—
the immoralist’s index finger is stained
by the ink of his second-penned suicide.
Whisky waves its ghosts before the nostrils
of the bystanders parting, for Berryman,
who despite his grief is laughing.
He looks at two astonished girls who are lovely,
paper-soft in their knitted scarves and bare legs
pink from cold. He winks and waves.
The new year is a bastard.
Quite far over the railings now, he sees
the back and seat of a sky-blue chair in the rocks.
It is god to the scene. Broken there,
the clear sheen of ice on the chair’s form
————
Oliver de la Paz is the author of The Boy in the Labyrinth and four other books of poetry. He is a recipient of grants from the NEA, NYFA, Artist Trust, and the Massachusetts Cultural Council. A founding member of Kundiman, he teaches at the College of the Holy Cross and in the Low Residency MFA Program at Pacific Lutheran University.
makes it glow in the weak sun. There is no obscurity—the chair
like a daybreak train. The blue is like a wild dancer
closing the distance of the ballroom and
Berryman falling toward the last love,
the last dream, the last song.