12.12.09 - notes
When I hear the evening church bells, I slip into a pea coat & nice shoes, twist an umbrella around my wrist. Outside there are yellow-green leaves on the sidewalk.
In Chinatown the trinkets reflect headlights from the rain. Buses pass w/nondescript faces, libraries of graffiti & other advertisements. I try to read them all, walking.
Later, as my train leaves the station, this California reminds me of Italy for a moment. But only because I let a memory run over the world. These two are not so much alike.
A young woman behind me makes ambitious plans for Valentine’s Day 2010 - a hotel room in Pacifica, ocean view. The peninsula is off-black & spotted w/porch lights.
My station is covered in raindrops. The restaurant is top-shelf, small & inviting. My wife is there, w/her coworkers. I order wine. We eat like royalty on another’s dime.
Southern food. Layers of courses, tiny portions. Interludes of rosemary cornbread, lemon sorbet & Bananas Foster. I trade off taking sips of 11 pm coffee & cabernet.
