Imagine that 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
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.