The Chamberlain Bridge

I saw a man

living under the bridge

with a pot and a pan

I saw a man

living under the Chamberlain Bridge,

I knew as I passed

that this just couldn't last

how silly to stand

with one pot and one pan

why he hadn't a stove or a fridge,

On the way coming home

he simply was there

without any chair - in his room built of air

under the Chamberlain Bridge,

I said to my wife

this isn't the life

why what could he cook

in his low-ceiling nook

that had but one wall - with a plaque that recalled

who built the Chamberlain Bridge,

Now a man though of means

how he'd open his beans

I haven't a clue - just what he would do

yet each night he retires

to the roaring of tires

a honk and a screech

why it isn't the beach

there under the Chamberlain Bridge,

For days I did ponder

how someone could wonder

then choose not to roam

but just build a home

with no switch for a light

no kitch for a bite

no faucet that drips

or bathtub that slips

no phone ringing calls

no art on the walls

no alarms for the smoke

in hopes you don't choke

no clock in the morn'en

to stop you from snore'n

oh dare it be true

could there be room for two

under the Chamberlain Bridge?

Z. Corwin