Driving from San Francisco North to Marin
across the rust-red Golden Gate who
arched so many souls over their cold
forever nevermore, you drive
through the Rainbow Tunnel—
its bright mouths frowning over asphalt.
They renamed the tunnel for Robin Williams
devoted smiler that he was
dead now, the same as the thousands
who never made it across the Golden Gate—
who never intended to,
who instead leapt into the surf
to be pecked by gulls and sea lions, or
to wash ashore on Alcatraz or Treasure Island.
You remember Robin in rainbow
suspenders on TV, a giggle of a man
pasting a grin made only of teeth caging in
fleshy trouble behind. When you drive
through the Rainbow Tunnel now,
when the concrete stripes arch their Crayolas
over your hood, you think of Robin,
think of all the ways death takes you
and then takes you again.
about the author
Ohio born and raised, Kerry Trautman is often seen at local poetry readings and events, such as Artomatic 419, 100-Thousand Poets for Change, Back to Jack, and the Columbus Arts Festival. Her poetry and short fiction have appeared in various print and online journals, including Mock Turtle Zine, Midwestern Gothic, Alimentum, Slippery Elm, The Fourth River, and Third Wednesday; as well as in anthologies such as, Mourning Sickness (Omniarts, 2008), and Roll (Telling Our Stories Press, 2012). Her poetry chapbooks are Things That Come in Boxes (King Craft Press, 2012) and To Have Hoped (Finishing Line Press, 2015).