Category: prose

7/19/10

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Through each digression, of furthermore and finally, of a chin tilted toward the sidewalk, invincible. Past House of Nanking and its future diners that curled around Kearny to Columbus, the same intersection where mind always changed about something. Let’s go! Climb away to Broadway and the Condor, cigars, City Lights and tourist stars singing take me to San Francisco, right here, right here where I am making days of life.

On that same corner, across Market where the beautiful men strode in suits and the F-Train sweats along the rails, I’m blushing.

Someone’s life is this

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I can agree,

there’s a sense of euphoria when going to places for the first time. you’ve stopped distracting me from the beautiful scenery, it’s the only one i could find. bummer when the summer goes by so fast and
oh, the swing of the weather! the weather is sad. and how could it not, how could it not? i hate the fact this town is built
around railroad tracks, i’m at an impass—but where are you? going to sleep, need to lock gate. come home. make it happen. man, i shut my eyes and….almost. i can almost
imagine how nice it would be right now. are you finding inspiration? let’s meet on that plane of reality where all things are
truth and love.
i hope everything is as you wish it to be. be safe. keep in touch as the night digresses. maybe we can work something out. just until you come back.
you are loved.

For Saloon Jesse

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Dear Saloon Jesse, I left my steady on the stool. Mind if Pabst Blue and I chat with you? What? We just met and you’re inviting me to your therapists’ yacht in Sausalito? Sure, what time? You might know this, Jesse, but you look a little or a lot like David Bowie in Labyrinth, you ought to get some sparkles to go with your getup. I think. My boyfriend’s at the bar getting another round from the bartender. Did you know he’s a fully-functioning heroine addict? Not my boyfriend, the bartender. What’s your business anyhow? Sorry I’m shouting, it’s a wild night and yes, I come here often. You should really check on that cougar in the corner, she could use a dance like you. Huh? No, I didn’t get your social…your social? Like social security? My mom always told me never to give that out, Jesse. I know you look trustworthy and famous and all, but I can’t do that baby. What? What’s thi—a BUSINESS CARD! Jesse, you have your own business cards! And they look cryptic as hell! Right on. I see you’ve written your number on the back with a sparkly gold gel pen, a nice personal touch. What kind of business did you say you were in? Magic?