I’ll never get
across that bridge,
I think, that bridge
I’ve been trying
to cross for years,
and my hands
throw themselves up
in surrender.
The God I say
I don’t believe in
wastes no time
in tickling me
under the armpits
until I am pink-faced
and gasping with
terrible laughter,
side-ripping, gut-aching
breath-grabbing laughter—
who knows how long
it goes on,
but when I wipe
the last tears
from my eyes
the bridge
is gone.