[OUR CHILDREN SHOULDN'T SEE GOYA AS JUST A BRAND OF BEANS]

Hollow cow, I crisscrossed this Thumb
Of Land by the Dangling Catwalk, going
From Twin Titties to Coitus Tower (of
Power), by way of Jesse Jackson Street,
South of Cesar Vallejo. I sidestepped

Amber Shower Garden, dozed on a cardboard rug
In the Panhandle, then chilled in the Tendergroin,
Just north of the Civic Project. I stumbled onto a
Platoon of gagging, hacking lamas overshadowed
By the hopeful farts of a pink fatso. Closing an eye,

I caught myself lapping, to Vivaldi, alas,
A slavering pussy of someone who wasn’t,
Finally, finally, finally, my mother.

[Written in a café at California and Divisadero
While listening to a disco version of "Take Five."]



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