Dreams and Things

I am in my apartment which I do not recognize. It looks vaguely like a condominium Janis and I had considered buying at one time. It is dark outside. My brother is there and says that he wants to go to Dolores park to talk to people. So Eva and I decide to walk to Dolores park to let our dog run. I can't see the dog. I am a bit apprehensive about all of this. Eva and I have a teeny spat along the way. Eva insists that we should have driven but I insist that the park is within walking distance. We go on a bit until we reach Church street when I point out that we are already there. My brother is there in a long sleeved shirt and his jockey briefs underwear. His garb seems to alter between this and him wearing a loose pair of pants. There are people at the park. A small group at the dog run area and a larger group at the entrance near the 18th street stairs. The lights seem to alternately go on and off. This worries me. But I remind myself t...

A taxicab ride in San Francisco is fast and furious. Rolling stops at intersections and then     your head-banging backwards when the cab accelerates onward. Heart-stopping while speeding through yellow lights. Eyes glued to the road ahead in dread.  But it gets you there and fast. Tip as you see fit. I always put on my seat belt     if there's one in the back and it isn't broken. Yaffa never fastens hers. Unfathomable. After all, what will happen to her     when the taxicab inevitably crashes     spinning out of control as we tumble past Alamo square? Taxicab drivers are usually quiet     but sometimes chatty     about the weather, sports and sometimes politics. I always agree with the driver. I don't want uncomfortable differences     to divert his attention from the road. I took a taxicab from downtown to my home in the Castro. For forty years this ...