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.