Brooklyn Bridge
A heaving, grieving mass of humanity
All afflicted with the same insanity
To cross the bridge in Brooklyn Heights
For one square foot they impetuously fight
What has caused this hopeless plight?
Love of money and dishonest gain
Is the root of their discontented disdain
These days, without further detection,
Are the last of imperfection.
(Written when NYC had a transit strike in 1979?)
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