09.21.02 [The Head of No Class]
Of restaurant design there's naught I know,
But at a theory I will take a stab
Inspired by dining out at Julia — so
Delicious, almost worth the hefty tab.
The ambience was subtle yet not drab,
Well done. Yet I suspect, just as Twin Peaks
Showed Lynch works best when guidelines make him grab
The reins of random thoughts concerning freaks
And do away with his egregious streaks,
So I think someone wiser, saner kept
The tacky furnishings and crass antiques
That lacking oversight just might have crept
In, out. What makes me see such clutter loom
So close? Well, I have seen the men's restroom.
I think for sake of compromise that place
Is where the owner let designer get
His way. So here you find but for the grace
Of taste what mockery might have beset
The main room. Witness now the men's toilet:
Walls painted dark maroon and dimly lit —
But wait, somehow, it gets more ugly yet.
Two walls have, covering nearly every bit,
Dead animals. Do not reach up and hit
The murdered sailfish up above the door!
The capper: on two opposite shelves sit
Gold women's busts. I state that this décor
Creeps out even a straight man when he sees
Two headless breasts stare at him while he pees.
09.12.02 [The Day After the Year After]
About the anniversary I thought
It best at first to hold my tongue. You each
Have your own thoughts on all that hatred wrought
Eleven of September one year's reach
Behind; you surely don't need me to preach
My views. But see, my nagging urge to share
(As evidenced by 'blogging) does beseech
Me gather my reflections and to air
Them, for you might find reassurance where
I strike a chord, a notion that you've held
Although in all the discourse it's seemed rare.
But if it happens that our minds don't meld
I speak to take the chance, however slight,
That on this vale my view can shed a light.
Between the deep but simple truth of grief
And memories force-fed until we're numbed
Perched yesterday. It teetered on the reef
Left when humanity and steel succumbed
To bitter poison, ruthless dogma drummed
Too deeply into human minds to purge.
But even as fear's well-oiled engine hummed
Anew we lived, refused to let the dirge
Destroy us. Rather than assume the verge
Of doom, we've built precaution into being.
The wariness and pressing forward merge.
This orange test of how we've started seeing
Made 9-11-'2's intensity
A nutshell of our new reality.
From this transforming year, here's what I've learned:
America must lead, not overrule
The world, or like old Rome risk getting burned.
To shun the globe's needs is to be a fool,
And yet our dubious president might fuel
The flames with unilateral strange desire
To wreck the earth with no forethought, the ghoul.
The threat from my own nation seems more dire
Than terrorism. But I'd be a liar
To claim allegiance to the ultraleft.
The make-love relics didn't quite inspire
Resistance to the right; they proved bereft
Of better answers when they cried "no war!"
Too soon and helped make that goal now a chore.
But one thing though, as true now as Before:
Rather than be inspired by those who wave
Flags in my face, I am unnerved much more.
To me it's weird to watch people behave
As if the nation for which heroes gave
Their countless lives so we could prosper free
Were a sports team whose victories they crave.
And when such types demand that you agree
With their star-spangled stripes, say, can't they see
Their hollow oft-recited "freedom" cries
Are bursting bombs of true hypocrisy?
You're granted room beneath these spacious skies
To fly those flags, but truly worthy fights
Are not for cloth but for the Bill of Rights.
I also realize now that if someday
I globe-hop farther than just Montréal
And someone asks, "Where are you from?" I'll say
Instead of "USA" the place I call
My home — not just because it's where I crawl
Into my bed, but also 'cause it seems
That this American town over all
The others brings the Founding Fathers' dreams
Most real, and liberty here brightly beams.
With "San Francisco" is how I'll respond.
So onward, with the hope memory deems
As 9-11 backs a year beyond
It's no more just the herald of a state
Of terror, but again a yearly date.
09.05.02 [Rad Gold and Green (Or, 20 Straight, But Not Me)]
Despite what I might otherwise avow
There has transpired a baseball circumstance
That has me paying some attention now.
All hail the Oakland A's! Their feat supplants
All AL streaks. Will 20 wins enhance
Their standing in the Giantscentric Bay?
A feat as rare as the Jim Leyritz batting stance
Sure should get more attention here, but hey.
This San Francisco dweller likes to pay
More heed to the Athletics -- why? Perhaps
Their shadow-dwelling, or could be the way
Their home white looks beneath their dark-green caps,
Trimmed well with gold and youth. Oh, by the way
I could have snagged free tickets just before
The game. I passed, and thus the final score.
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