Day in City

Rode subway, without strike or incident, to Ferry Building. Shot in black and white, palm trees, water--the sound of, rust, children and stairs, people napping in city sun of late afternoon.

Embarcadero to Broadway. Walking and thinking. About Nabokov. And later, D.H. Lawrence and even later, Robert Creeley. Sitting in poetry section wanting to think about Diane di Prima and composing a photo from the window. Yellow building, afternoon light, pigeons and pigeon shit, a fire escape. The pyramid beyond and Vesuvio below.

Wondering the time, downstairs. Startled by bustle of influx of people from tour bus.The bustle then and the bustle now. City Lights--then and now. What's changed? Was it them or is it us? What is hip? And who decides? What is beat? Is beat beat? Is beat dead?

Corner of Columbus and Broadway. The guy told me that I could keep my bag because it would be easy to "keep it easy." Same guy to total my purchases and tell me about Mario's and Michelangelo's, homestyle Italian. Far away from the Italy of Gloucester and I am contemplating Italian food and wine to to go with, though I have discovered that it's late and that I'm trying for responsible so I run up one hill and down another--this is San Francisco--past Mario's, past Michelangelo's, past the drunk who tells me that I'm beautiful, alone in the dark and running, running to catch the 9:50 train.









Also, there's a San Francisco set at flickr. If you'd like to look, click on an image, click on a few days in San Francisco (set).