Saturday, August 29, 2015

Hot Town Summer in the City

Down by the far point of the Oakland estuary again
Waiting on a friend

Another hot day in Flaneurland

Whether we be made of dark chocolate, milk chocolate, or white
When it hits eighty degrees around here we all melt,
Chinese get more like dewy pork buns

 Oh where, oh where can my little pal be?

Here he is!
He's glad to see me too!
He brought his human with him,
My oldest California friend, a professional keyboard player
 I've had the honor of collaborating with for 35 years
Most recently doing jazz poetry with his improvisations
In a San Francisco nightclub

Good old R-man

 We found a suitable sylvan spot 
 Kind weed in the shade

 Time passes pleasantly
While high wind sheered clouds into parallelograms
A WWII bomber for a moment

 After we split I went on to the natural foods supermaket
 but realized I left my reading glasses behind
I went back, didn't find them
So I spent more time lying in shady green grass
As the heat of the day slowly went past

 After dinner
I realized I'd been grossly over-charged
went out to catch a bus back to the lake again
A crown-like aura radiated over the setting sun
Far beyond my crepuscular neighbor

 What's that I see?
Well, that explains everything
All the mild snafus and the rapid change in mood

The mass of the full moon
Gaining buoyancy in a night tide


 Marquee Moon,

I remember
How the darkness doubled

The movie playing was "Some Like It Hot"

28 August 2015

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