and Halloween, and the Castro
and on this night
did “PJ” and I go forth:
enrobed, and buzzing:
what would we find?
this cancelled holiday,
some bloody recent past:
this new top-down sanitation:
would it fly?
or, might
a hundred thousand frustrated planners
bust forth,
strutting where they could not ride?
we learned. the streets:
tranquil.
a few of us presented
different faces to the night,
but, mostly,
empty spaces where we once were,
some tourists,
some journalists,
a few mobile “Chicken John Johns”,
lots of cops.
some tentative reaching out -
as if
anything at all could happen,
focused violence or
friendly greetings:
friend or foe, both hidden,
no one could see, fearful,
but, some defied this
creeping numbness:
and happily swept the shrine
for our most honored holiday.
Trick or Treat.
Filed under: photos, san francisco, why are we here? |
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Tagged: chicken john , halloween , hsag , trick or treat , words words
