Peenie Wallie

"How much you had to drink?"
"Monday night i had three beers."
I helped Rico catch a raccoon last week and called animal control
We both ride bikes and we are friends now

A shop owner sweeps the street with battered broom
while crippled pigeons graze the concrete sidewalks
Hopping and hoping
Hoping and hopping
Barabary Coast plaques brightly polished by the soles of the souless
And by soleless souls.

Grids of purple glass cylinders cast in concrete sidewalks.
The surreal murals of north beach

At lunch:
The little people sweep up the cigarettes butts the homeless will not have
I wonder if they dreamed of this as kids
A white tattoed drug addict squirms and curses in the afternoon sun
Cotton mouthed he grinds against the sidewalk
like a worm after a rainstorm
cursing at everyone and no one
But no one even sees him
He's the same as the fox gloves and fuchsias and asparagus ferns
They are there
And they are not there
No one sees them and no one cares

A corner flower stand run by a mean asian lady
i don't talk to her any more
i don't spend time around people who are mean to me
not any more

A girl studies the flowers no man will buy her
She thinks about how her life would be beautiful
if only she could find a man to buy her flowers

A man in a denim jacket and smart cap
that wears his keys on a carabiner clip
would buy her Saffrons or Shampoo Ginger

Any man would do really
He doesn't really have to have a smart cap
It would be nice, really
With the cap.

Any flowers would do really
It doesn't have to be Saffrons or Shampoo Ginger
Anything would be better than this
Maybe tulips
Maybe even a single tulip would work.
They're only a dollar, after all.

But no man comes with a cap and she leaves without her flowers

The clouds push back the sun and the temperature drops
and she shivers on the walk home alone
No man. No hat. No tulips. No carabiner keychain.

A person sleeps on the brick sidewalk hungry and cold
Covered by a thin pink blanket shivering in the weak afternoon light
Some padding beneath helps insulate from the bricks
at odd intervals, it shutters and convulses beneath the pink blanket
No sign. No cup. No one stops.

A tourist paints sunscreen on his daughters' faces
He wears no rings
There is no mother
He expertly paints their faces diligently
deliberately
Taking care that no part is missed
His daughters are his canvas

Now he walks off
down the sidewalk
but the older one stops to preen before her reflection
Now twisting the younger girl's hair into a ponytail
Father getting too far away now
The girls bounce down the sidewalk as father slows for them.