makesbridgeit was my fifteenth hour
headed north
on the cardinal route
a leaving delaware delirium
resting uncomfortably
in the lack of a sleeping car

back when jersey still had a shore

the train tracks were skimming us
toward a crashing nighttime death
in the black atlantic

sharks approach silently with their teeth

out the window
my eyes found
an iron bound
bridge glaring back at me
stretching the width of the garden state
wearing a red neon garter
as a sign
reading,

“Trenton makes, the world takes…”

and i knew then
all was lost

it was the september
of not wanting
to know more