Leaning against a cold steel cable
one of four-hundred-and-sixty three,
collectively bonding the spine
of the strange Tappan-Zee Bridge.
Looking down, I feel vertigo
Staring back at me, awkwardly-
slantingly, as Vertigo tends to do.
So much for the rush, I leave,
I'm just starting up my car
when a truck behind me skids,
slams dead-on into the cable
I was leaning on-
just moments before.
Never thought I'd ever say this,
but Thank You Saint Vertigo?
(P.S..... No People, Trucks, Cars, or Cables
were injured in the events of this tell-tale)
FjR-MMXVI
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem