This poem was written during an eight day trip my girlfriend Brenda and I took to Big Sur and San Francisco, in June of this year. To call this a poem may be a stretch (it’s not really an epic either!). It’s made up of discrete journal-like entries. This method owes a lot to the example of two of my favorite poets who both spent the majority of their lives in San Francisco and surrounding areas: Joanne Kyger and Philip Whalen.

 

 

Both of these poets used an unassuming and daily technique, recording their surroundings and collaging them to make graceful and unadorned poems. I adopted the technique for my visit to the Bay-area as a way of paying homage to this tradition and of bolstering my own awareness and enjoyment. To stop and write something down, no matter how insignificant it seems at the time, is a way of slowing down and appreciating the natural and social environment I’m a part of. What a trip!

 

California: an epic

 

work is over, allegedly, whatever I do
from this point, I disavow

sit back, relax, and enjoy the epic
try not to hug the flowers

*

your hair is wet

*

people talk to themselves in Spanish
the alien is you; that’s the hidden message
every time you open your eyes
strange nature, strange desire,
strange way of being OK, most of the time

16: vi: 12

as soon as I grab my horrible glue
and summer dress, the day’s edition of
fog rolls over us, and everything’s hilarious

17: vi: 12

conceptual boyfriend
the show’s over
what you guys got planned?

*

shades of Pants
being all like a bun

*

paying attention
to the tonalities
of a person
you have to learn
to read;
            a little black dog,
with a green ball
in its mouth
loafs up the hill
at Dolores Park

soon I will hunt
for books (among the rocks)

we have met our enemies
and they are ours

men at the espresso booth
roll their eyes

we are not so much threatened
as our perception

18: vi: 12

this is like life drug
    you put one foot on Freedom Blvd.
            and the other on Marmot Rd.

    dip farm

            pajama jeans

Seaside

                    Del Rey Oaks

*

Brenda drinks a cherry Pepsi
driving through Monterey

*

Tuesday afternoon, drunk on coast
throwing ourselves tender lines
in the opposite direction home

19: vi: 12

one of these days we will fall into the ocean
until then we invite the sea lion over for tea

*

Sea lion

Sea lions sunning on the beach.

 

I dreamed we met Joanne Kyger
from the west a mist crept in
Brenda’s alarm clock sounded like the ocean
so we missed breakfast and now
I’m eating pretzels

*

but I am alive and write these words
the I Ching says: don’t worry
there will be progress and success
also there’s toast, so that’s good

*

maybe it’s the mutual immanence of all events
in the present, or just the dot dot dot:
the Kwisatz Haderach of our interconnectedness
quick! I want you to hide me
we live in the dissimilar world listening, that is forever

*

slightly higher in Canada
tourists can be identified
by their shorts and general
lack of fitness: that one
is laughing, together with his wife
they’re “so excited” she says
through bared teeth
                                    I have found
a new way to wear my hair
slicked with sunscreen
and the elephant sea lions
made me feel svelte and good
as I sip Lily’s coffee
and stare at Creekside Café
and a sign that says Maybel’s
clothing and accessories

*

that is one aspect of it
the other is stillness

hunker down,
changes

*

I would like to dream of being a cormorant

20: vi: 12

birds wake me up
last night’s sunset       
boils the ocean

another rime
in parachute pants

say goodbye to Tree Bones, to the nest
pilot car follow me out
to the sequoia-dendron giganteum

it never gets too hot here
nature strobes
one giant bald child at a time

Elkhorn Slough
giant artichoke
law dogs
curve sharpens
locust
registration bridges

rivers, mountains, oceans, sequoias, desert, lizards, surfers, burritos, palm trees, trails…
and there are still places on earth humans can’t get to
and creatures that would be alien to us there

                                 the man in the next room
                  he’s our sea lion

21: vi: 12

awoke to an electric ocean
maybe that’s the feeling our dreams make
gone off in their own direction
over the cliff, it wants to look out
over the trees, at the sun

                  the ocean is a big thing dreaming
                  and now it’s a dream

California sky
bright as a trumpet

22: vi: 12

the clouds, a print-out on nothing

let’s not say
it’s the last day

our neighbours
have lowered
their blinds

the three plants
are named
Stegoman, Friday
and Fenchurch

Magic Man
makes us coffee
and Brenda
eats her cookie

into the shape
of Texas
to make it
into this poem

23: iv: 12

 

On Thursday, August 16, 2012 we held a talk at Metro Hall titled "International Influences: Inspiring ideas for trees in public space". Led by Brendan Stewart, Landscape Architect and Urban Designer at ERA Architects, it explored the ways we can borrow ideas, concepts and philosophies from other cities and bring them home to our own urban forests. In celebration of this theme, we launched a blog series where we reflect on the how forests from around the globe have inspired us. This is one of those stories.Watch this space for more in the series.