Russell Edson

(1935 - 2014 / Connecticut, United States)

The Bridge - Poem by Russell Edson

In his travels he comes to a bridge made entirely of bones.
Before crossing he writes a letter to his mother: Dear mother,
guess what? the ape accidentally bit off one of his hands while
eating a banana. Just now I am at the foot of a bone bridge. I
shall be crossing it shortly. I don't know if I shall find hills and
valleys made of flesh on the other side, or simply constant
night, villages of sleep. The ape is scolding me for not teaching
him better. I am letting him wear my pith helmet for
consolation. The bridge looks like one of those skeletal
reconstructions of a huge dinosaur one sees in a museum. The
ape is looking at the stump of his wrist and scolding me again.
I offer him another banana and he gets very furious, as though
I'd insulted him. Tomorrow we cross the bridge. I'll write to
you from the other side if I can; if not, look for a sign . . .


Comments about The Bridge by Russell Edson

  • Mohammed Asim Nehal (2/3/2016 10:02:00 AM)


    I offer him another banana and he gets very furious, as though
    I'd insulted him. Tomorrow we cross the bridge. I'll write to
    you from the other side if I can; if not, look for a sign..
    (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: mother, sleep, night, travel



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



[Report Error]