New Year’s Thoughts
January 6th, 2012 | Uncategorized
~ 77 words or less.
~ Create a title (not included in total word count).
~ Identifiably about San Jose and environs.
~ No profanity, bigotry, insults, etc.
~ Poetry preferred; nice prose fine too.
~ Name or alias (email preferred – not required).
Express your thoughts about San Jose in 77 words or less.
Copyright © SJ77 2010San Jose in 77 Words
connect:
roger the baron says:
Post Christmas at the Caravan
Dark. No Windows. A light yellow glow from behind the bottles. I guess the year round christmas lights justify their presence now. The barmaid treats me like I don’t belong; not mean, just someone who doesn’t matter,who won’t come back. As I walked outside, saw a guy smoking wondering if he should take his jacket off or not, the sunny winter weather throwing him for a loop.
January 10th, 2012 at 12:09 AM
Marguerite says:
The Christmas Decorations on Shasta
glimmer in the early morning light the way the palm trees catch the slanting sun. The big boxes, cut out reindeer I think look better now than they did during Christmas week: a certain lack of concern improves them, as they dawdle days after they should’ve been taken down.
January 10th, 2012 at 12:11 AM
Mitty senior says:
The Driver on the 17 Flyer
I saw you catch yourself today. The homeless dude pretended to have lost his fare. You hung tough for a minute, then waved him on. We all wanted to applaud, until we hit Los Gatos, when we had to open the windows.
January 12th, 2012 at 6:02 AM
Back After says:
Before we went into Food Max I wanted to sit in the car for a minute and just watch. You were in a hurry so we said we’d meet inside. I started to make a list of everybody I saw, pushing carts, prams, dawdling, going into the post office, rearrangingtheir cars. But then I realized that would miss the point. So I went inside and found you by the instant coffee.
January 12th, 2012 at 6:04 AM
Ellen Rosen says:
From the 17/280 Overpass
A strip of brown purple that doesn’t look right. A vague belt of sin . And failure. The still air points a finger: We should be spared. The coughing. The excuses. The ugliness. Spare the air, indeed.
January 24th, 2012 at 4:40 PM
Sparrow says:
They Say
I’ve been acting oddly again
Taking too long on walks with the dog
Coming up with weird theories about street design.
Trying to figure out the number of circles in the Ridder Lounge at the CPA.
And I feel like I’m getting saner.
January 31st, 2012 at 11:44 PM
Sparrow says:
I say
I don’t like how
I’ve never walked down Story Road
Or sampled vietnamese food
Or Cafes
In places other than safe “ethnic restaurants” frequented by white people.
Why does Coyote Creek
A tiny little creekbed
Act as such a barrier
Between Me and The East?
February 2nd, 2012 at 4:14 AM
Roger the Baron says:
Bags
It took awhile to find them, but there they were: behind the cardboard boxes and the party glasses. About 200 plastic bags rolled into each other. The product of foresight. “We will want these some day when they’re outlawed” I had told Sylvia. So I whip one out with a conductor’s flourish as we’re checking out of Food Bowl. A dusky smell. The cashierl eyes me suspiciously.
February 3rd, 2012 at 11:08 PM
Christina says:
Something’s Inside
Everything goes wrong. Especially the little things. Flat on the bike. The 522 arrives a minute early, I see its exhaust as I hit the busstop on the run. Hangnails. Dropped ipods, shattered screens. Burnt bacon. Headaches. Something’s got it out for me and is laughing.
February 6th, 2012 at 4:21 PM
Mitty Senior says:
Hope you’re better
Carrying the soup in the tupperware container down the sidewalk right after sunset, I noticed I had poured it too quickly, before it cooled down. The Tupperware is giving a big, feels wrong. Like the flowering pear on Dana that blooms too early every year, even before the last frost is past.
February 6th, 2012 at 4:22 PM
Spartan grad says:
I only know the chorus, even after all these years
Walking by Cinebar late afternoon. Mt. Hamilton’s behind me, like a benevolent father who’s got my back. The old Chicago song 25 or 624 wafts about the open door. And I realized that I had no idea what that song was about even as I upped the beat of my walking to its familiar cadence.
February 9th, 2012 at 7:26 PM
Peter Davenport says:
What you see from Aero Vaccum Repair on W. San Carlos
A dead palm tree in the median.
Live palm trees whose spent front look like a scraggy beard.
Neon lights going on–dusk is the best time to see them, they shine so clearly and sharply then.
February 9th, 2012 at 7:28 PM
Mitty Senior says:
Even though it’s daytime
A waxing three-quarter moon rises
Over the shingled roof
Just to the left of the lemon tree
Getting heavy with green fruit
March 4th, 2012 at 3:28 PM
Bellarmine junior says:
Seen near Cambrian Shopping Center
A lone tree bisected the sky, vertically. Its budding leaves blended into the sky like cotton candy on a stick.
March 5th, 2012 at 10:55 PM