Sunday, August 30, 2015

The Point of it All (or Sexy, Sexy San Francisco)

The Point of it All (or Sexy, Sexy San Francisco)

so maybe the point isn’t 
in bays of San Francisco sex
wrapped around the great
Treasure Island of Human Waste
where you can see the lights
of bridges leading always to the other
city across another bay
Oakland’s magnanimous display
west black east brown middle white
the most fucked-up Oreo in sight
but at least it’s diversity
(when women say they’re diverse
my Chinese-Filipino friend says 
they should not want to “die-first”) 
but that’s beside the point 
that isn’t in bays of San Francisco sex
that I imagine tastes something like
sweet, sticky, buttery 
chocolate strawberries 
dripping syrup down my 
all-you-can eat pancakes
that spell San Francisco sex
as religious as Sunday brunch




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