Detonating the Dunn Memorial Bridge Pictures
alan catlin
They are hanging behind the bar, four frames
of the guts dropping out of Bridge, slow motion
death and transfigeration poems of what it was like
to be systematically, explosively erased.
The non-existent fifth frame is the void created
between specific places, the car driving toward
that night through the warning barriers toward
the Hudson River and the strange idea of Troy
on the other side, toward where there is nothing
but black holes to cross and the holes are in
the Bridge picture viewer. sitting at the wood,
reading the labels on the back bar bottles out
loud, nursing a pitcher of warm beer, getting
closer and closer to the eyes in the cracked
mirror, the ones that are afraid to look back.