jump

jumping from the golden gate
is the best way to go.
you only feel pain
for a moment
and you're gone.

climbing over the railing
as you sit down
next to the ledge,
next to the lamp posts.

lamp post #69,
closest to the center.

I used to think,
the only thing to save me from
myself would be to love
or to be loved.

but maybe there is a light of chance
somewhere,
a running light through the fog.

but no. there isn't.

we have walked along the train-tracks of
hope but never held the dream,
or we had the dream but
had it taken away.

and what has come and gone,
is often irreplaceable.

riding the same trolley
becomes tiresome
like the faces of old liquor store
owners.

it becomes chipped yellow paint inside clinics
or driving with a broken tail-light.

it turns into climbing
over the railing of the golden gate bridge
and watching the
grey water swishing
like some big laundry machine.

from the womb to lamp post #69
what a lovely way to go