Spooky City


Neighborhood 004, originally uploaded by holden_kristen.

I love SF in black and white. Does remind me of the critical Kerouac poem “San Francisco Blues” lines, “This pretty white city / On the other side of the country / Will no longer be / Available to me”

This then, in turn, reminds me of Miguel Algarin’s “San Francisco” poem, the last lines particularly:

since all parts are eyed by
the whole that they become,
there is a secret to nothing,
in that everything
on land goes back to water.

I don’t mind the exposure of SF as a dirty city, a temporary city, a city without identity. Here is a place that, like the fog or memory, rolls in and out of the heart without warning, never violently but insipidly, which in itself can be a terrifying act.

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