Alcatraz

The island is hard
How can concrete sprout Western Gulls
In the ruins of the Warden's House?
The city is there, immediate, taunting.
Women bars and bookstores on every corner.
What did they think, looking at Coit Tower
Or the bridge?

What would be different for them? The Tower is the same
I climbed up this morning, complaining
About hips and knees. Feeling the pain
In my calves on the way down.
God how boring this must have been and how
Expensive, 400 or so cons on an island.

Animals in a cage. This was the city zoo.
Look and you might see
Kreepy!
Whitey!
Scarface!
Birdman!

Here we see the con in its natural habitat, playing
Contract bridge.
What?
Hardened killers playing contract bridge?
That's what old couples did in the 1950s in bad TV shows
Until Dad had too much to drink and embarrassed himself
And Mom by telling the guests they were horseshit.
That sort of honesty was always around the crooks and cheats
Playing contract bridge, looking at the city.
They were old couples married to the nights
When the doors closed
And the city glowed through bars
Taunting, dressing down in quiet thoughts
This is what you gave up when you
Stole
Muscled
Shot
Killed
A picture colored from memory
Never experienced first hand.