Crossing the Bridge to Nowhere

Nowhere Near a Bridge --- Winter 2014 w/Seth Kantner near Kotzebue, AK

Crossing the Bridge to Nowhere

in my Alaska

when we cross the bridge

to nowhere

Nowhere is a city

perhaps not unlike your own

where no one

knows your name

or cares which village you came from

in your Alaska

they mush dogs through city streets

through marauding moose

live in bars and build igloos

wear flannel and fur

in my Alaska,

diminishing salmon runs

are reality

Discovery is a Sudanese refugee

widowed mother of five

learning to write a college scholarship essay,

as her first snow

falls

in your Alaska,

re-runs of scripted reality

on Discovery

on The Learning Channel

Wild West Guns On Animal Planet

In my Alaska

the animals are our friends

our food, our fate

in your Alaska

they talk only

of drilling, of gold

of guns and good heaven

“Say don’t cha know?”

“You betcha!”

and “Polls are for Strippers

and Cross Country Skiers”

In my Alaska,

we use ski poles. 

we strip.

we kayak, climb mountains,

we’re homeless, and have mansions

fly float planes and take city busses

we’re Mexican, Samoan, Denaina,

Yup’ik, Hmong, Korean, Irish, Inupiaq,

sunburned brown

and snowblind white

and Arctic night black

in your Alaska

they would build Bridges to Nowhere.

in mine

we write to burn them

[I wrote and read this poem at the 2014 AWP Conference, for "Crossing the Bridge to Nowhere," a cross-genre reading by Seth Kantner, Bryan Fierro, Leigh Newman, and myself.]