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September 25, 2023

The San Francisco Poets

so she says “I had a flat tire this morning, my dog ran away, they turned off my electricity for non-payment, and I think I might have Covid…what’s new with you?

so I mumble; yeah, I just got back from Paris

I’m thinking…you had a tough day, you told us all about it, now do your job

but on another subject…

where you gone Lew Welch? never lost and never found

walking off into the woods one day

in the end, who knows where you found your peace

I saw a picture of a couple of the old gang

and I do mean OLD…so sadly this is what it’s come down to

Juan Valdez coffee in a sidewalk cafe with horns honking wildly

couldn’t see from my table what was going on

maybe some kind of running of the bulls here in Miami

later it’s wine from the bottle while listening to Zeppelin; my, aren’t we living large?

thinking about all those young voices of the San Francisco poets 

they’re almost all gone now

the gallery wall with the Picasso doesn’t speak; it doesn’t have to

the smiling docent can’t tell me anything I don’t know already

now it’s a hot june afternoon lounging by the swimming pool 

oldies radio station playing 

what am I in the mood for, a double manhattan, or something stronger?

I need something to go with my bologna and lettuce sandwiches extra mayo