Culture, San Francisco, Poetry, Music, Reviews, Short Stories and Life
Let’s make this clear – I am scum. I am so scummy that there is no redemption for me. That doesn’t mean I am not a devoted mother. I am absolutely devoted, totally loving and I have done my absolute best over the years, despite being faced by huge obstacles and no to little support […]
MoreI have lived back inside for six months now. Five years on the road in campers and tents with no inside showers or bathrooms, and now six months of showers whenever I want them, and the walk to the bathroom being across carpet not down trails. I had previously been homeless on a few occasions […]
MoreI’m needing to cut loose, to borrow a telecaster, plug it in, turn it up and thump out a kicking cover of Lorraine. “She got straight, she understand, aw she wanna die, but now she got plans, she wanna live, she wanna start her band…Go Lorraine!” Jim wrote the ultimate speedball song, she took that […]
MoreNeil Young has made a career out of nostalgia, even from the start he was longing for the past and making us jones along with him. Sugar Mountain is one of his earliest songs, and is a lament for his lost youth, written just after he became unable to visit his favorite teeny bopper joint […]
MoreI admit I had never heard Death Cab For Cutie before. From the band’s name I was expecting some screamo nordic deathe metal meat-rock, instead I fire up youtube and get…the Clancy Brothers with less fish. I am a huge admirer of the NPR Tiny Desk Series, I have never met an episode that I […]
MoreIt is what passes for daylight out there. Foggy skies of indeterminate color, a soupy mess of a day. Everything can change in a second in San Francisco: a cold day can turn into bright Californian summer haze; brilliant heat can turn to a brisk wind and suffocating sea fog, rain can dissolve into rainbows, […]
MoreI have to hide my rice cooker. In it I make illicit sweet potatoes. Illegal cassava pasta. Verboten brown rice and forbidden tofu scrambles. We are not allowed hotplates or rice cookers, kettles or other instruments of nutrition. When I explain I have celiac disease and get so very sick with minor cross contamination, and […]
MoreHope’s a luxury Expensive commodity A gamble I lose. Faith is loud but blind Screams Her strict demands and cries When I prove brittle. Love drives hooks through flesh Hangs you from the Wailing Wall: Willing sacrifice.
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