Jose Rizal Bridge

Stripped of humanity
near the green bridge across the city,
the lights the boxes are blinking
Happy Birthday, Baby!
Baby, look up
Baby, look over the edge
of the green bridge over what was a meadow in it's youth

There are tents there now, by the edge of the freeway
where a man and his proverbial dog, loyal, hide
from the rain, lighting butt after butt
of burnt up cigarette, found
in the Jack in the Box parking lot

Devoid of humanity
the city dogs bark, drowned
out by the city sirens, concubines of disaster
caressing Baby to sleep
Look over, look out over the Sound, big sky

Baby shakes to sleep, warm,
asleep to the man and his cold dog
shivering together to the sounds of city sirens
detecting with noses a moment of urine, warmth
of the last cigarette ember falling asleep, big sleep, cold in the hand
that'll never redeem another dirty dream
that'll never be red of another dirty deed
that'll never inch down on the softness of skin
that'll never faux toss towards man's best friend
that'll never caress Baby again