San Francisco

been there before.
sat on poetic stairs.
sang in Castro bookstores.
punched a car.

San Francisco is a good friend of mine. 

the lime tree
still laughs at me,
growing in time,
one day mine.

Let's have a glass of wine,
now lets have another glass of wine.


don't get drunk
too much
as to kiss the streets
that Kerouac kissed.

I am skid row, too.

the west coast 
seems to hate me,
but I love to visit it.

back in time,
some Suzie
found out
about me.

tattoos and dancers.

how's about telling me a story?