September Open Thread
September 7th, 2011 | 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:
Back after 11 years says:
I missed this, and forgot alot of it
The in-law unit you can see down the driveway
The white -rocked front yard of the duplex
The big redwood by the apartment sign
The dolls in the portrait window
The year ’round xmas tree
The stain the olives from the olive tree leave on the sidewalk
The v-cut of the genko tree amid the power lines
The smoky cheesey smell of the Round Table down the street
The coral tree at the corner.
September 9th, 2011 at 9:27 PM
Ellen Rosen says:
It feels too late to recover
Like a river down to a trickle by this point
Fading out even before Gold Street
Seeping its way into the Bay
Or maybe south
To the Sea of Cortez
When that final drop suddenly hits a rock
Reverses course
And inexplicably starts gaining speed
Running backwards
Its channel widening
amid mysterious unnamed tributaries
Which join the torrent
In a mad rush to rejoin the Sierra snowpack
The headwaters way up high
before the last cold days past
and the wildflowers begin their bloom
September 9th, 2011 at 9:31 PM
Susie Murillo says:
You’re a fine girl
The song Brandy by Looking Glass
Plays on the jukebox at Marmist
In the middle of the day
I get all choked up
I’m sure there’s a musical trick
Whose name I don’t know
Which makes me hang on edge
Like a chord unresolved
Running deep and unwatched and unexpected
Glimpsed fleetingly in my upstairs bedroom
When I saw where that song was going
But have forgotten now
September 9th, 2011 at 9:34 PM
Roger the Baron says:
West San Carlos Barbershop, 2.53 pm, hot September day
The grey white light tides into the salon
I can hear the jukebox from the bar down the street
Ripple by the Dead
Someone’s drinking beers in the afternoon
We’re all quiet for a second, catching the rhythm
Me, the guy in the chair, the haircut lady
Then she clips some more
The kids walk down the skinny sidewalk home from school
Second hand smoke comes in when somebody opens the door
Which tinkles
it makes me want a Camel Light
Left behind long ago, but the long left parked deep down there somewhere
Saying: it’s ok. I can wait. But it would be great to have one mow.
September 9th, 2011 at 9:37 PM
Sparrow says:
Grapevine can wait
We left San Jose three hours ago
Hot summer night.
Radio. Highway 5. Early rising half moon.
Ice cream from the roadside gas stations.
Car air conditioning.
Trucks.
But before we hit the incline
We roll down the windows
Cooler. Smells like manure.
And you say: I bet there’s a bar in Buttonwillow.
September 9th, 2011 at 9:40 PM
Sparrow says:
Hiking Los Gatos Creek Trail
Up to Saint Joseph’s hill overview:
Were those big balls always here?
To stop the hawks, I suppose, from decapitating themselves on the power lines
They look like beads on giant’s necklace
A gift, perhaps, to her giant boyfriend
that fell out of her pocket
And fell to the ground
But were caught, just before smashing on the ground
By a lost thread from a giant spiderweb
I bet she spent some time on hands and knees trying to find them
But was looking in the wrong place
September 9th, 2011 at 9:47 PM