Sunday, July 26, 2015

Double-O Oakland














Random recordings of miscellaneous behavior






Me too,
 When I walk in gardens
My movements help flowers to pollinate





 Bright and cool day on the Oakland estuary
The inlet known as Lake Merritt






 A passing vendor stopped his bead cart for photo








 A egret propels himself up from the sea bed,
 I devour the world with a hunger born of love






 Reflections on Marble cross






 The Cathedral of the Diocese of Oakland
Viewed from the shade of a bus shelter








 Reminds me of "Mr Brown"
An early garage song by the Wailers,
"Who is Mr Brown?
Mr Brown is a clown 
Who rides around in a coffin"









 The Silk Road














 Exit a bus in the urban center
You just stepped over into the Oakland zone






A fleet of unmarked police trucks,
Plutocracy needs police state
To maintain the inequity of inequality







 Truck double-parked in Temescal
Through the dystopian window of a 1R bus
Cars and trucks, sins against nature








July 2015

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Bay Cruise, Wharf Life




The old sailors called it Frisco




A long day's voyage into evening,
Into the Flaneur's astrological sun sign of Leo
 Come along as we get right underway



1.
Heading Over


Just another technicolor day




Cinematic in its way





The extraordinary waters




We going up around the bend







2.
Welcome to Fisherman's Wharf




Jacket for a child





The Wharf attracts some of
 San Francisco's most discerning visitors




 

And no one ever went broke
Underestimating their taste
Or overestimating their patriotic pride





Very reluctant to refer to anyone as an a--hole,
The Wookie smelled like it rolled in dead fish






I told this old sea dog
If I wanted a Bay cruise
It's his funky boat I'd choose




San Francisco has a long-held welcome
For sea-faring eccentrics



3.
The National Park









At the Visitor's center desk,
Joey Know says I'm like Weegee lately
Weegee, Diane Arbus, Robert Frank, Charles Gatewood
I covers the waterfront





Kinetic sand-painting
Each waves creates a different work,
I had my lunch out of the wind again
On the Hyde Street Pier niche beach




No shredding







Did you know that the Pier
Has the home of an old sea captain
That some believe is haunted?



4.
Seance on a Summer Afternoon




The Captain's table





The priapic Captain Endicott,
He kept nine wives,
The eye is the window to his lost soul








Said to be something of a strange bedfellow
He provided well for his wives
And he expected their faithful service
When he was on land







After many an hour spent smoking a black pipe
His lions came back to life




The wives slept two to a bed
Only one at a time shared his chamber
In a sort of domestic tag team






The spectral shower,
As Mr Hitchcock once said, "it happened in here,"
Early one morning the insatiable goat
Was found murdered in his bath,
An intruder was mentioned,
No one was ever charged with the crime







People say his gory corpse
Haunted the place for many years,
Some say he is haunting here still










5. Outdoor Life


Ship-building takes place here




Not some dusty moribund exhibit
Rather a productive workshop





Its products represent
Fine works of an ancient art







Time for me to get on my pony and ride,
Dig the sturdy motorcycle flag,
Aren't you glad to be in America?




6.
Peaking at the Beach



A sparkling high tide meets the Leo sun




I rejoiced to relax in lush green grass,
So precious in our water-short Summer







If I happen to run into a Dungeness
Taking a stroll on the municipal pier,
He's going in my backpack, sorry







Do you know the way to blue?
Looking back the way I came
Mr Wind dancing on the water







Onward, up hill, to Fort Mason







Leaving sea level behind,
Reading the fractal-like designs
Of God and man







Flanked by a precipitous plunge








Reaching the wild parts of the Bay








The ineffable vista,
Mists suffused with sunlight,
The bridge evanescent and rematerial






7.
Return Trip



Did somebody get a new logo
With funds from Homeland Security?




Something fishy about this enhanced Asian,
Like he hulked-up at Balco lab





All the way back through yonder slot







Shadows have now overtaken,
My lush green spot






Bikes border on nuisance
This time of the year






The crowd calls out for more







Tourists don't expect our chilly Summer
Apparel and alcohol sell themselves






Name your poison, really,
This place vends candy dresses and poopy pop







Evening arrives like a sudden street car,
Other people are other worlds







Take for example a Negro painted silver,
He muscle spots me
Tells him to go "get the money"
A demand I firmly decline







Fortunately some people hold themselves to a higher standard





Pier 39


Surfer Joe, product
Of European migratory adaptive strategy





They're attempting to control my mind,
The difference between high kitsch,






And low kitsch
Is arbitrary and insignificent,
As post-modernism has taught us








The ethereal East bay is calling me,
Every swell reminds me of a leonine shoulder.
A steely tide of lions










20 July 2015