Sing a Psalm of Protest and Praise for the Bridge Builders

 

 

for their brown fists put to work on bridges or thrown to the beasts

steps by steps like mules they mine blistering-hot rock sift

through loose gravel, props giving warning creaks

hang stone together and build that marvel heaved

in the air its weightless span crosses gaps, gorges

and joins the language of angles

brings strength or just an irritating mass, an interference with the land

 

absorbed in the hardness of the stone the bridge traverses our path: we take shots and listen

 

 

1

this is bridge 97

invisible forces emerge through the numbers in its name

as someone lost in its curves watches the water lines

under the arches  

reflect in-between patterns of digital dashes

insistent sources in the presence of ghost

plants, deltas inkblot signs or what Suzanne

whose hair as a child was done with a steel brush

saw in reflection: inlets dots cracks an unfurled sock

all reliable distinctions on the surface

 

 

2

Art O’Brien from a collective known as the Freckles farmed land on both sides of the border —the British army used to blow up the crossover points that straddled North and South —Arthur had to travel miles out of his way to access the land — his brother Tomàs was once asked to carry a parcel for the IRA —his wife taken as collateral he gave a warning before the bomb went off—lucky he wasn’t shot as an informer —Róisín was released unharmed —soon after she got sick and died—of shock it might as well be said

 

 

3

the bridge becomes enlarged or smaller as it takes

the shape of language or another life source

self-healing balanced in repetitions between water and land

tucks us in, shields us overwhelms the noise from a carriage

above or whistles—the landscape makes such strange

noises—below the echo repeats:

there is always someone fishing littering hiding under the bridge

 

 

4

there is no bridge

no fancy imagery, an abstraction

not traced on any maps yet

 improvised stepping stones and a plank

somebody misinterpreted the local dialect

and repeated badly replaced original words:

 

break step  route step  march

 

 

 

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Melisande Fitzsimons

Art: Leonardo da Vinci

 

 

 

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