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.