Tag Archives: San Francisco

Top

I walked myself out of the buzz of a long day

A driving day where the highway crawls into your nerves

Each turn of the tires transmitting itself into some neural pathway

To lay fresh asphalt in the back of your brain

Upcoasting with amusement park thrills past beaches and castles

Into the sprawl of the Bay where highway lanes proliferate like noxious weeds

Filled with accelerating tension I’m soothed by the calm voice of the GPS

Who deftly selects lane changes until rush hour bogs us down

I found myself forced over a bridge that takes half a forever to cross and recross

Finally I reached a disappointment of a hotel and recovered my legs

Between Chinatown and Union Square

Found a bistro in the French Quarter with a jazz trio

Where I fed appetites to satiation

Then pounded some sidewalk to soak up the city

Digging the architecture

Recognizing Frank Lloyd Wright’s signature from a block away

Chilling in the sliding drift of crowded sidewalks

Absorbing looks and feels into placement location

Upscale and updone, I thought

Unbuzzed I headed back to the hotel

As I reached the corner a sliver of a plaintive wail pulled at my ear

A horn crying in the night

I turned and followed the sound

Found this dude and his horn

In a storefront alcove where he poured forth honeyed balm

I dropped a few bucks

After a while he stopped for a smoke break

We talked

“Name’s Top” he said when I asked

“Well Topcat really, but I’ve been around so long everybody just shortens it”

We talked some more like old friends catching up

Said goodnight and walked away

As I climbed into bed

A lick and a curl crept through the transom

Top was crying his blues in the night

And I slept soundly under his ragged blanket

 

 

David Trudel     © 2013

 

 

 

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Remembering Scott McKenzie

Come to San Francisco

Wearing flowers as organic crowns

Come to dance

Trip out

Pick up the badass torch from City Lights

Howl at the man

Revel as rebels

Wash your ears out with psychedelic sounds

Groove in tune

Turn on

If we didn’t make it in the Summer of Love

We watched

Even through the pages of Life and Time

We listened to scratchy records

We remembered down the long years

By the time the iconic bridge was in my viewfinder

The only flowers left were in gardens

Or on cars

But the echo of the song

Remains

 

 

David Trudel   © 2012

 

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Urban Voice

I’d walked myself out of the buzz

The buzz of a long day

A drive up the coast

Saved only by the soothing voice of the GPS

Fighting for space at 70 mph

Navigating rush hour

Going over the wrong bridge the wrong way

Fighting my way back,

Stupid GPS I spit out

Finally

The hotel, a disappointment in itself

But slipped between

Chinatown and Union Square

Around the corner from the French Quarter

A fine repast

Urban walking

Digging the architecture

Recognizing the Frank Lloyd Wright edifice

From at least a block away

Chilling in the sliding drift of the crowded sidewalks

Absorbing the look and feel of the place

Upscale and updone, I thought

The buzz receded

Heading back to the hotel

As I reached the last corner

A tendril of a plaintive wail

Reached my ear

A horn

Crying in the night

I turned and followed the sound

Found this dude and his horn

In a storefront alcove where he poured forth

I dropped a few bucks

After a while, he stopped for a smoke break

We talked

“Name’s Top” he said when I asked

“Well Topcat really,

but I’ve been around so long everybody just shortens it

We talked some more

Like old friends

Said goodnight

Found my way back up the street

As I climbed into bed

A lick and a curl

Crept through the transom

Top was crying his blues

In the night

And I slept tight

 

 

David Trudel   © 2012

 

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Filed under Poetry