Rattletrap

I’m not sure what Tennessee Williams’ play A Streetcar Named Desire has to do with the Brooklyn Bridge.

I am sure what they both make me feel.

Unaccomplished. Anxious. Incomplete.

Distracted. Discouraged. Defeated.

Inspired. Unbridled. Unfettered.

I wish I could live among both of them.

Two big dreams, suspended, girded.

Riveted dreams. Lantern-covered light.

I can touch both.

Run them through my fingers, curl their sounds around my tongue.

Rage and cry and run and applaud.

Swear never again, and come back every time.

A fading beauty with secrets under lace and steel. But I see it, dark and light, under eyes and lost on a pillow.

I can curl around both.

Tracks and heat,

a shot never did a Coke any harm.

A date from the start.

Gorgeous.

On the tracks,

In front of me,

Settled.

On the way,

Riding.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s