route 17 bus ride poetry

psychic wigs
legal seafoods
unlimited wild birds
bruce the bed king

close up of sign

always take the high road there's less traffic

i took this photo at turk and larkin
in san francisco

A street story to be classified under "SUBWAY"

There is always a question as to "what is 'the street'" or rather, "where is 'the street'". Is it purely a public space of that facilitates movement? What about the private spaces, that also, but not equally, facilitate movement?

Sometimes I allow my "street" to include the subway car. Passersby appear in the window as you move parallel with another train like those you may pass on the street - but exchanging glances for a longer moment than average. There is something else about the subway car which makes it a peculiar "street" in the sense that there is as much, if not more (and definitely less) potential for social interaction - especially within the train car.

Since many good things happen in the form of stories ... here is a subway tale:

Thursday mornings are the my most exciting in terms of subway travel. I get to wind the entire system. Take locals and expresses. As I am rarely able to get a seat on any of the trains I catch my eyes wander to haircuts and shoulders of my fellow standing passengers (versus shoes of those seated).

At Atlantic Avenue I got on the express train to Union Square. Pushing my way in to actually have something to hold onto as we were catapulted across the Manhattan bridge I spotted something on a young man's back.

I said to myself, "He has a caterpillar on his back!" And then being slightly rational, I rethought the situation: "I am in a New York City subway car. There is no way this guy has a caterpillar on his back".

So of course I had to figure out what this two-toned one inch long thing was: perhaps a tag? but it wasn't centered; what about a two-toned piece of yarn ... maybe his mom knits?

And then IT MOVED! I became overjoyed and tapped the young man on his back. "Excuse me, I said, you have a caterpillar on your back". He removed his headphones and asked what I said. Finding my words I responded, "You have a caterpillar on your back, would you like it?" Proceeding to take it off his back and hand it to him immediately, he was first slightly stunned (as I was) that he had indeed a caterpillar on his back.

Letting it inch up and down his arm, this man in his early twenties proceeded to watch this caterpillar as if he was still a 7 year old. The divide between the New York street (or subway) was so great that the existence of nature had been forgotten and its reappearance created both novelty and nostalgia.

As he found a seat, he did after all have a second, and momentarily dependent, passenger traveling with him he smiled at me. Not out of flirtation but out of the excitement of finding a caterpillar.

The Pressure of Dirt Under My Nails

My fingernails are starting to get clean
The pressure of dirt under them is gone

this makes me uneasy

i have walked 10 blocks searching
for a place to sink my hands into
the earth

between my feet and soil
the concrete teases me with traces
of dirt from other places

i lay down with my face against
the warm cement and wait for
it to melt

i am asked to move by a man in a uniform
my fingernails are aching
i don't move

i hear a beautiful, high pitched clicking noise
looking up into a beam of light a young
man asks to take my hand.

Man: You go that way. You go that way.
Woman: (dragging cardboard on sidewalk) I don’t wanna go that way. Don’t tell me to go that way.
Man: Which way do you want to go?
Woman: That way.
Man: Well, go that way, then.
Woman: No, don’t tell me which way to go. I know where to go.
Man: Where are you going?
Woman: You don’t have to know everything. You don’t have to know where. Why do you need to know that, huh? Rick? Why do you always need to know everything? (crying)
Man: I’m going this way. You go wherever you want, okay? See, I’m walking away. (footsteps on 15th Street)
Woman: Don’t go! Don’t go!


(found street scene published in LITTLE BOOK OF DAYS 2009)

selling snowballs

"David Hammons is a master of minor artistic intervention that triggers major effects: "The less I do, the more artist I am." His performance, 'Bliz-aard Ball Sale' of 1983 on Cooper Square in New York is an excellent example to underline this statement. Standing between street vendors, Hammons offered snow balls, sorted by size, for sale. The artist wanted to illustrate that given the right setting, anything can be commercialised. This was also a reference to the art market, functioning along similar principals, where even seemingly senseless objects are given a price."

----text found on .......http://www.lwl.org/LWL/Kultur/skulptur-projekte/kuenstler/hammons/?lang=en

----image found on .....
http://forumandcontent.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-recently-saw-this-picture-on-failblog.html

BLUE?

I was walking down Folsom last week, crossing the street near Precita Park.
I overheard a Woman and a Man, not a couple, discussing ... color.

*conversation in progess...

Woman: "Blue?"
Man: "Blue."
Woman: "BLUe??!"
Man: (quickly) "yea, blue.!"
Woman: "What color blue?"
Man: "Blue-blue. Blue."
Woman: "Really...? (softly) blue?

documentary that made me think of .....

' In the street ' - 1948 documentary

by ed howard

---- images of street life in new yorks's spanish harlem during the 40's