“Screaming at the Brooklyn Bridge,” a poem by Mari Pack.

Nobody wants to live with a corpse …

Screaming at the Brooklyn Bridge

After Robert Lowell’s “Waking in the Blue”


I weigh one hundred and five pounds

after my New York breakfast

of vanilla Soylent, all I can keep down these days, thanks

to the anti-depressant. I swallow it, beige smoothie,

every four to six hours.

SSRI? Every twenty-four.


My roommate asks if I will eat something.

No, a real something,

and I do.

Nobody wants to live with a corpse.

I want to show him — all of them —

strut around this city, skin melting off bones, screaming, “I am here!”

to the Brooklyn Bridge, all 14,680 tons of her.


Mari Pack’s work has appeared in Yes, Poetry, Quail Bell Magazine, and others. The Description of a New World, her first chapbook, was published by Dancing Girl Press in 2019. Mari is an editor for Guideposts.

The Scream, undated drawing by Edvard Munch.



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