Born on an abandoned boxcar bridge in Boston 

In a strong, alive house out west in Santa Fe, all the lights are on,      the doors and windows are all attached, installed, they even work now

and tonight I saw something in the new movie about Bruce Springsteen,

a small scene, but it was there, and I finally felt more than small. 

The scene where Bruce takes out a book by Flannery O’Connor,

flipping pages, he’s trying. 

Sitting there with the remote 

I went back 40 years remote, an abandoned railroad bridge in Boston. 

After work one Friday night and the job was nothing

I got my supplies for the night before going home 

which was nowhere

a 6-pack of Budweiser, a Bic, new batteries for the Walkman 

and the new Rolling Stone with Bruce on the cover, 1985. 

Batteries in, beer in, walk to the bridge, musically. 

———

Sun go low, go west—night come on cold!—sky darker blue from pink

I sit in the middle of the bridge, boots dangle over the Charles, 

no rush hour, speed 3 cold beers deep down, feels gold warm cold 

like the sun going down so now get out the Bic pen, make notes 

on the brown 7-11 bag, open the magazine to the sentence 

where Springsteen says he started reading Flannery O’Connor. 

I was trying. 

                                 Now all the lights are on.