0 Imagine

the Golden Gate Bridge has skin and bones,
walks among us as the one true San Franciscan

He knows all the secrets of the city
that no one else even bothered to listen to

Each cyclist trickling across the road tickles his side
as he sweats out the location of every seagull's nest

He plays the ukelele on busy street corners
not for change, just to make people smile

He has never touched a piece of tie-dyed clothing -
he dresses the way he wants to

Cars' constant braking and burning rubber
leave tire-track tattoos over his spine

He never gets wrinkles or acne
Though the years pass on

And though he is in the sun all day, he never tans
His body grows slowly paler with each huff of sea spray

His breath rushes out in a cloud over the bay
His mischievous face appears in the
background of every tourist vacation photo

He shakes whenever there is a storm.
He can't help it.
Earthquakes terrify him.


--Jessica V., 19