Thursday, February 11, 2016

Mobile Mardi Gras on San Francisco Bay Part 1

 Mermaid provides free show

Pas Perdus

 Lost and Found

The Flaneur crosses over for seawater taffy

At home he feels like a tourist,
Here's the full tour
All captured on a "smart" phone,
Indulge me the poor photo quality
In favor of the flavor of
Spontaneity and Carnival

 Beyond Bed indeed
I'm off early-- down to the Port
To catch the eleven o'clock Ferry to SF

Moving past the flowers
I continue down to the Port

We're going to have to see you later


As usual the world 
Looks cinematic

Ship parked out in the middle
That ramp on the stern is
A launch for an escape vessel

 Everything was military and industrial,
As Jack Bruce sang in Escalator over the Hill
Leo Villareal's vertical light sculpture
 Resumed this month
I won't be after dark to see it

The vagueries of the Bay
On a warm Winter day

We pull-in in quietude 
The frenzy of the weekend past is gone

Fisherman's Wharf
 The tawdry thick of things

 Sourdough bread on sale at Boudin

Alcatraz-related souvenirs
for Passover

Mementos of life under the sea

 Locals come down to the Wharf
To escape shells of their own making

The San Francisco Blues
Poems by Jack Kerouac

 Wild is the wave,
Oh I dig your blue windshield

 Thumbs up from Mickey Mouse
Cryogenically copyright

Smokestack lightning
Impressive power boat

 San Francisco blues
are the kind of blues
That provide their own cure

Where fish people gather 

Wouldn't be RAY man
Without his Ray-Bans,
Polarized lens preferred

The Sea contains
More than can be written of
In your books of philosophy

Maybe STETSON will see this
free blog advert
And send me a fine chapeau

This mural replaces an older one here,
The same view with lots of industry
It was faded and peeled
But it was genuinely local

 Pirate trinkets
Notice the t-shirt
Trompe l'oeil pirate's garb
Even though it has a white collar
It still has a bear-rug of chest-hair,
Now that's manly

 Fish mongers still exhibiting 
But all the tourist have gone,

Will you look at that paint-job?
On J-1 sativa it's like color porn

 A stop in the Visitor center as always,
Bathroom and cold water refills 
before hitting the shore

Candy counter


A siren blasted twelve noon,
It's the highest of tides

 Waters churning below the very boards
Where I have my marine lunch
Truffled potatoes with my standard sardines

 Steamboats and paddle wheels
I know what it means to miss New Orleans
But not that much

8 February 2016

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