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
