San Francisco

The wind came in from the sea and blew me to pieces scattered me through the hills of the Mission and Noe Valley i saw it all the saint of the fog was welcoming me as i assembled my self on the north beach The husk of me drifted back to shore Crisp glints of glass greeted me as a solid I begin to move with the rotation of the planet clockwise blooming Dahlias' circled the mirror agents buzzing in the coffee shops, bookstores and the dens of the cephalopods Ignored by the wall the door began to creek advancing the return of silence my ride to oblivion