Blue

Hello, San Francisco
City, not of dreams,
but little things
how blue one feels
without you

Hello, San Francisco
so spartan & in sync
a city that beats
I'm glad I caught you
with my teeth
& sank deep, sank deep

Don't you know
my sea-salt love
I would go
to north Sausalito
& beyond
to taste you on my tongue


Hello, San Francisco
A paperback dream
& the flush of spring
I will learn to love
all the unsavoury parts of you


Oh San Francisco
perhaps this is long overdue
but I hope you know
that I will learn to love
all the unsavoury parts of you

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It's been about a year & I haven't written many songs or poems about my trip to San Francisco CA last summer, which is strange because I remember so much of it; the dreamy carousel fraught with fathers & their pink-frocked daughters, the tang of salt on my upper lip, sharp smells of clam chowder & seafood & freshly-baked sourdough on the pier at eight-thirty in the morning. I should though, before these tactile & sensory images turn to dust. It's how one preserves special memories, by turning it into song...