September Open Thread

6 comments

  1. 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

  2. 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

  3. 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

  4. 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

  5. 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

  6. 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