What the Bridge Says at Misfit’s Miscellany

My old walk to work used to take me over a bridge. Actually bridge isn’t even right because it wasn’t anything like the Brooklyn Bridge or the Gowanus Canal even. It wasn’t over some small brook or stream. It was over a highway full of exhaust fumes and noise. Still, each morning I would look at the things left on the bridge, the forgotten, the misbegotten, the lost, the garbage, the toys, the love notes, the shoes, books, broken things. I used to think about the parts of myself that were left, the things that we all slough off -cheap tokens to prove that we were once real. That we did live here in this moment in time after all.

So I wrote this poem entitled What the Bridge Says and the kind folks at Misfit Miscellany decided to publish it here.

Maybe they left something on the bridge too.

Also I stole the title from this Frida Kahlo painting, entitled What I Saw in the Water or What the Water Gave Me.

By Ally Malinenko

I live in Brooklyn which is good except when it’s not which is horrid. I’ve been writing for awhile, and have some stuff published and some stuff not. I don’t like when people refer to pets as their children and I can’t resist a handful of cheez-its when offered. I have a burning desire to go to Antarctica, specifically to the South Pole so I can see where Robert Falcon Scott died. I like to read books. I like to write stories and poems. I even wrote some novels. You can read them.

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