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New Voices From San Francisco

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unlike

By KC Wilder

 

              unlike Minneapolis  

                        or sweltering Chicago,

many San Francisco streets

         implode by dark of night

some exotic hand grenade fauna

                        not found anywhere else

      tangled in this jumble of Victorian dollar bills —

 

detrimental, discus-throwing

                        peabrained mammals dominate

                        the areas beneath parked cars.

         scruffy, sometimes luminous

putrescent white pirahnas

                        effervescent fins transformed into  

          thin filmed sails,

                        flocks of them in Chinatown

       patrol sometimes near Stockton Street,

                              greaseball rooftops up above

                                    where mounds of lumpy concrete forks

where unconcerned street heathens go,

where unaware flat multitudes

inject — disperse — and flow

 

                        positively manifesting —

                                    slamdunk situation,

                        out in Sea Cliff

                                    framed by colorful gardens

            full of life

 

                                    rabid gray attack monkeys

                                                nightly prowling Anza Street,

                        ascending stairs with stealthy movements

                                     speckled blue and black,

                                                standing 20 inches long

                        dangling little parasites

                                    between bubbly fibrous arms

                                                impressive and appealing —

 

                                    thought brought from Grenada

                                                by soldiers here on holiday,

                                                ding dongs in the 80s          

            in the meesey micey Ronald Reagan

            salad days of yore,

                        San Franciscos windswept shores

            played unwitting host

            to many oddball visitations,

                                    the snazziest of zoo creations

                                    dumped from cars on Fulton Street

                                                to anyone observant

                                                            they are visible today

 

                                                sociologies notorious bugs —

                                    angelic upstarts,

                                                butterflies with disconnected or

                                    distended stomach parts that

                                                            flew across Valencia and

                                    landed high on Castro,

                                                all around they nested

                                    in a most ironic fashion,

                                    amongst the fine establishments

                                                trading in their hearts.

                                                            other disconnected body organs

                                                soon arrived.

                                    chicken parts cut in pieces,

                                                candied eggs they'd seem to slide

                                    beneath the Noe Valley hills,

                                                        eerie cel phones that collide

                                                in secret, puffed up —

                         grew inside.

                                   

                                                cuckoo brown bananas

                                                            sliced up rice-a-roni

                                    celebrating San Francisco life —

                                                one cant help but obfuscate

            fine wine free associate

                                                bouncing off the Golden Gate

                                    strangeness in the night

 

Copyright © 2004 KC Wilder

The poetry of KC Wilder has appeared in more than one hundred literary journals. “unlike” is from the forthcoming book “Counterpop: The Action Poetry Reader.” KC lives in San Francisco. More of KC’s work can be found at www.kcwilder.com

WORD

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