I didn't think that To Brooklyn Bridge by Hart Crane painted a very pretty picture. All I can see are cold dark clouds, dirty busy streets - the cars polluting the skies. The way he describes the bridge it almost seems like it is unsafe, just the way he talks about the cables "breathing".
Other than that I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to get out of this poem, like I said in one of my other posts, I'm not very good at picking apart poetry.