Notes From The Overground

Portland is a full-bellied rivertown, round gut, sitting long on its lancing
The middle finger of a 405 & 5 slithering up north in the cold
Willamette River greasing the lubrication of pretty city lights
It is a village of drift & circumstance, cobblestone walks & grandfather buildings
Whose people make fertile skin in the mix of draft & rain

I wanted to fall in love with a girl from Portland
But first you have to fall in love with Portland
Its caring cradle makes the batting eyelashes nothing more
Than splashes of days & months gone by walking the streets at night
And counting the lampposts as mile markers

Portland wishes for the end of the world to begin here
On the rolling shores of prehistoric loneliness
Dotted with Laurelhurst marquees & street vendor lulls
Comfort drinking in the beer you can smell moistening the air
Whose landmarks make mighty cuts & lines towards the Rose City sky

I fell in love with a rivertown called Portland
An energetic lift of streets so easy to lose yourself in
New faces with eyes & lips to burn into & brand your mind
I might melt right into the sidewalk & wander glide down
Trailing off & joining the northbound river run
© Adam Bresson

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