About the Golden Gate Bridge, approaching its 2000th

The Fallen You can’t live in San Francisco long Without considering them, the fallen Waiting, leaping, flailing or grasping When I lived on 16th Avenue in ‘95 They passed the 1000th in a splash Those with AIDS, rage in their heads In fog with art deco swoops and dives And that defiant orange:  Over A four foot railing, taking their blood Outswept with the others to the sea 220 feet, 75 miles per hour, 4 seconds Then crushing, breaking and plunging Deep below the surface Many lower themselves calmly down Onto a beam called “the chord” This is where I saw the man that day With feathers in his hair, homeless I think, a 10-31, code for a jumper You consider them.  You know If you’re one of twelve $10 a day Workers.  Depression.  1937 9:20 in the morning when your catwalk Breaks away and snaps the safety net If you’re Slim Lambert you know to land Feet-first, but your legs tangle in the netting Which draws you down.  And then, sinking Kicking, panicking, striking out, finally Free, you rise with bleeding ears Reach for planks, grasp more planks To save a man, and you are both fished In by the auspicious arms of a crabber Sailing in from the Pacific

If you’re the man with the pipe in your mouth You catch a girder and scream and cleave To a rope tossed down to haul you back And you walk away, pipe still in your mouth In the direction of San Francisco If you’re the owner of the Suzuki Samurai That I passed while driving from Marin Stopped mid-span with the door open If you’re the first to leap, Harry Wobber, Forty-seven, a veteran of the Great War Three months after the bridge opens You turn to a stranger, announce “This is as far as I go,” and hop over If you're the founder of Victoria's Secret If your name is Steve and just before You jump you toss Kellie like trash (Kellie is your three year old daughter) If you’re Kevin Hines, you survive On a breakfast of Skittles and Starbursts Hop on the 28 up 19th Avenue After your 7th suicide note Saunter up and down for 40 minutes Take a picture for a lady on the bridge Then dive, headfirst, deciding on the way To survive (It’s a long way) Break your back, begin to thrash Yet are kept afloat by the nudging By the nudging of a sea lion      A sea lion! You can’t live in San Francisco long Without considering them, swimming Effortless, under the Golden Gate