Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Headline Poem 1/13/14 -- Bridge Days

(Photo credit USA Today)

I really didn't want to write about the headline(s) focused on the George Washington Bridge that connects New York to New Jersey.  But, it has become inevitable, and the scandal is demanding a headline poem of its own. Do I care about the details surrounding the cones-up "controversy?" No, not really. I care that people were inconvenienced for what might be a childish game of payback. I care that one man was late to his first day on at a new job after being unemployed for an entire year. I care that emergency personnel could not get to the scene of a crash as quickly as they should have been able to. I care that people's blood pressure rose unnecessarily. I care that this closure nonsense happened two days before the anniversary of September 11th. BUT, I'm not staying up at night worrying about who instigated the closure, who has been fired since, and how this will impact Christie's political career.

So, that leads me here to this page for my daily dose of poetic justice. What about this bridge trouble on the G-Dubya is worthy of a poem? How about a bit of history about the bridge? Or about the strong metaphoric value of bridges overall? I'm racking my brain here trying to think of something. And then... it comes to me -- a make believe character waiting to get to work. Enjoy!

Bridge Days

Coffee goes from hot to warm to cold
I always order two, black with two sugars, no cream
Today, one will do

Sitting on the bridge with my music
there is usually traffic
but this is ridiculous

This is my drive three days a week
New Jersey to New York and then back
These are my Bridge Days
Where I sit and wait, stop and go

My donuts are gone, 
I always get three 
Glazed
No sprinkles or filling inside, just three glazed
Sometimes I finish them all by the time I reach the other side, sometimes one or two
Today, they're gone and then some
I fear I'll be sitting here for lunch

Trapped, I start to sing some Metallica, hoping it doesn't soon become Johnny Cash
Banging on my steering wheel
All slicked from the Armor All
recently applied

I pick at my scab, gross I know, but I am stuck here with no band-aid
And nothing else to do
I try to stop the blood with my Dunkin' Donuts napkin
now spotted like a poisonious frog,
Dried ones brown, fresh ones red

I notice the crack on my windshield
I've been meaning to get that fixed
Damn truck kicked up a rock
And one got stuck, boom right there in the center, it's starting to stretch out pretty bad

My car's just been washed and fueled up, shouldn't have chosen the piƱa colada flavor savor from the lobby, damn thing's giving me a headache

I'm not one of those internet folks I see while looking around, staring at their screens while stopped
Liking, tagging, following, sharing, complaining, and tweeting out crap
Tweets are for birds if you ask me
I've still got a flip phone
No point calling my wife, she'll see it on the news 

I just gotta get to the other side 
Before I start singing the blues
Like a bridge over troubled waters, 
here it comes... 
Move those freaking cones!