Friday, May 5, 2017

The Representation of Everyday Life

Someone on the sidewalk
smashed the window
on the bus I was riding,
Mad at the world
or just missed the bus?

Of course everyday can include
 many different sorts of days

We had to wait for the following bus
an opportunity for me to do
some art and anthropology field work


 I've only had unsatisfying
drive-by image captures of this place

Nature preserves
of the wild wild west

Yogi pimpin'

These Negro profile works
are all over town

Next stop the Bengali section
of university avenue

This location
felt a little like
surreptitious surveillance

There's an old familiar face
 The most famous
living resident of Berkeley
Saint Misbehavin'
Name of Romney,
once ran for president

Just then a train rolled in
but the 51M is defunct

I decide to walk over the highway
rather than seek out an unfamiliar bus

The type of motley assortment
observable in any train station

See you later Wavy Gravy

I just can't make no connections

This ancient anchor
marks the spot
A prehistoric Shellmound
remains and spirit objects
interred here below

Along the tracks and toward
stairs to the roadway overhead,
Familiar pathways are now populated
by seedy tent encampments
with dogs

 Incredible amount of fresh water
captured in the wetlands in May
unprecedented in my experience

And the old devil has been
around here for a long long time
I was dressed entirely too lightly
after a big temperature fall-off
But I found a free box of  clothes
with a wool suit jacket (ladies),
It passed a close inspection
and a sniff test for perfume
Lined, padded and quite warm
it gave me back my afternoon

Wild flowers profuse
after a season of rain

I stopped at a relatively
un-wind-swept picnic table
to devour a mountainous
tuna-salad on pumpernickel
A kite raptored nearby

Turn into the wind
and the vista astounds
Mount Tamalpais
centers the universe
of San Francisco bay

 A bank of frigid fog
has begun its siege of the City
as it now takes the bridge

Mount Analogue

Sky and water
a hovering red-winged blackbird

The water planet
is receiving me

A traffic cone amid the fennel,

A grotesque stumbling block peace sign
now mars my and others' power spot
how chagrining

In the midst of a vast
field of mostly grass
An isle of iris
 like a mirage growing wild
too worn to walk there

I become one with
the red-wing blackbird
the gull and the kite
soaring before the immensity

Left behind:
my purple houndstooth
temporary jacket
Out the way we came in

It all seemed to hinge
on the shattered

4 May 2017

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