San Francisco Unseen

Don’t talk to me about the automatons—

Laughing Sally at the Musée Mécanique,
how she cackled and seemed to whisper
my name as small, cracked bells chimed

over an artificial bay where robotic sea lions
(with convincing stench) formed my initials
while decommissioned battleships, perfect
scale models, kept watch. Even now, doll-size

Beats stagger outside false City Lights,
and Chinatown, that phantom diorama,

rises, falls, breathes real fog.

 

 

 

If it’s Tuesday p.m., check out Open Link Night at dVerse Poets.

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16 thoughts on “San Francisco Unseen

  1. ha – when i saw your tweet i immediately jumped over as i visited SF not too long ago… loved china town and bought some nice presents for the fam there…they have european traffic lights in chinatown…ha…fun…

  2. I’ve never been to the US, let alone San Fransisco, but for some reason the overwhelming impression I have of that city is of fog; I was so glad to see it included here.

    • Thanks, Tony! The fog is real, and most present in the summer. For my first visit there, I made the mistake of packing mostly summer stuff when August is actually among its coldest months.

  3. I left my heart there once and since have often been inclined to retrieve it. It is a foggy notion I am want to be rid of and almost was . . . until I read your piece. Now it starts all over again.
    Cool write.
    Ride a cable car sometime? When the fog has lifted?
    Cheers!

  4. lornacahall says:

    I really liked your images and the dynamic of this poem’s flow. It is actually a “one breath poem.” Great to take in.

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