Liam Wholihan πŸ”ˆ

A Troll Named Error Tolls the Chesapeake Bay Bridge

Cut me in half & a wet-eyed snake
swaddling a fifty-seven leaf clover
falls out, slinks into
the warmest park of a rotting dock.

You wanted the authentic
Annapolis experience: I’m no local
but I build the porches
& know the ways back in the dark
& you’ve caught me
feeling generous.

Would a coin toss be fair?
Heads you win, tails I lose.
I’m sure the herons
& ospreys will give us
directions to shore

or Tilghman Island;
if we’re lucky, Thomas Point Lighthouse
lolling where I last left it.
My father & his dead friends
used to jump this bridge drunk,
the trick’s just
pointing your toes,
the trick’s just
going first.

Author Reading

About the Author

Liam Wholihan’s poetry appears in The Dewdrop, Kelp, Red Noise Collective, Quail Bell Magazine, and others. He uses his MFA in poetry to teach creative writing at Point Park University and to drive a Zamboni.