I watched myself die last night
I watched a documentary
I watched a closed phone make way for
a leg over, then the triple jump of
family men sinking like stones
they didn’t show them crack
like snail shells
but I knew they were broken
long before they touched the water.
18 months, and
I’ve watched ‘The Bridge’ three times.
I watched myself die, with French subtitles
and the people who feel
tried to remember the good things, but
my scale – warm and one-sidedly
weighted with your hand,
The world is getting smaller and scarier
the world is opening like an oyster, and
I am afraid if I have a son.
I am afraid if I have a daughter –
I will not let her go alone
to San Francisco
I will not let her be a modern-day Ophelia
chasing pearls, terror-free
over the bars of
the Golden Gate bridge.