From Walker Valley to north west from
San Francisco
unsigned Bolinas,
Dogtown, and Olema's
cows, untipped
disorient: heights, tight
curves above Muir beach
and Tamalpais (Lew's
turkey vultures)
and the quiet we gather
in glances
while eating
walking,
the Lagoon, beginning the beach
the ocean, waves, currents, and again the highway.
disorient---distances of above
looking below, beyond
heading back to city,
to tolls
signs
Van Ness to Bay Bridge tail lights billboard typefacings
eternity of stop and go
to Ashby
to Telegraph
to College, another shared meal, hot chai
lamb gosht, naan, tindaloo
stillness between, yet somehow,
as if to touch
as if to open
the volumes in Mrs. Dalloway's Bookstore
the magazines, calendars, lacquered boxes
on 880, in flashing darkness, sustained electronic notes
Tully Rd., Story Rd.
"eternitee," diamond panes
of the car pool lane,
Hellyer Rd., electra, electronica
black cypress shapes, "what the hell is going on..."
Sig Sanchez freeway, "spinning round again..." etc.
Exit 337 Aaaayyy
Cochrane, Cochrane
abyss
each vehicle pushing a crescent of light
"um, what you say..."
forward, through its own night
Random lines from my bookshelf
"Eia for those who never invented anything
for those who never explored anything
for those who never conquered anything
Eia for joy
Eia for love
Eia for grief and its udders of reincarnated tears"
---Aimé Césaire, Notebook of a Return to the Native Land.
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