Catch eels in the rocks below the Palace of the Legion of
Four in the morning—congee at Sam Wo.
Walk up and down Market, upstairs playing pool,
Turn on at Aquatic park—seagulls steal bait-sardine
Going clear out to Oh’s to buy bulghour.
Howard street goodwill—
Not paying traffic tickets; stopping the phone.
Merry-go-round at the beach, the walk up to the cliff-house,
sea lions and tourists—the old washed-out road
that goes on—
Play chess at Mechanics’
Dress up and go looking for work.
Seek out the Wu-t’ung trees, park arboretum.
Suck in the sea air and hold it;
miles of white walls
sunset shoots back from somebody’s window
high in the Piedmont hills
Get drunk all the time. Go someplace and score.
Walk in and walk out of the Asp
Walk up Tam
Keep quitting and starting at Berkeley
Watch the Pike in the Steiner Aquarium:
he doesn’t move.
Sleeping with strangers
Keeping up on the news
Chanting sutras after sitting
Practising yr frailing on guitar;
Get dropped off in the fog in the night
Fall in love twenty times
Keep moving—move out to the Sunset—
Get lost or
Get found” —
Gary Snyder, 1966
(via The Bold Italic)
Late lies the wintry Sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.