A river divides our city in principal parts.
Bridges are named for leaders,
victories, and lovers
who walk beside the river.
Higher bridges
display the craft of steelworkers
and spiders. Lower bridges
figure in watercolors.
A corridor connects the street
of banks with the street of groceries,
Inns of Court with Avenues of Art
and Offices of Diagnosis.
Those who know who they are
are asked to be governors. Those who don’t
are asked to be actors. Passengers
are asked to avoid irregular situations.
Thanks to alphabetical
order, the city remains grammatical.
Tallness rhymes with smallness.
Near a Spire of Triumph
burns the flame of our irreparable loss.