n-judah love song
When I breathe recalling
how long it took me here
to get to exactly these coordinates
to remember to both in-and-exhale.
When the seductive curves of hills arc,
back and forth, in rhythm,
thinking of how this life is and was, and
how I conjured/invented/created it.
The movie's nothing like the book.
Weighing the guideposts, signal flares, miles passed,
wrenching through wrongs and rights,
expectations and reality.
I mean, really?
Just gotta wonder if it's all an elaborate charade.
Whatever it is, it beats the alternative,
"long as we're on the right side of the dirt."
I wish, instead of writing you a poem
I'd sing you a love song
like an old lounge lizard.
Once again, instead,
walking home at sunrise,
weaving through warehouses,
shutterless and shadowy,
"I look for you in the Mission"...
it's written on the bathroom door.
And oh, I did look for you!
Scanned faces behind bus doors
narrow office windows
for clues, for you.
Pushing and punishing myself,
pitching my feet against the steep grades,
flinging and swinging away,
from the crooked doors of bars,
from doors of creaky buses,
imagining I'm in a graceful surfer's balance.
fragments of paper, or
scrawled cardboard signs by the 101.
You, San Frandisco,
You inspire me to write notes to myself, knot messages to my fingers
with pink string
no matter what, to keep walking it off.
"when you are ill at ease in the heart,
take a walk.
be strong in the heart,
nothing lasts forever."