Walking over the
little corner of a
Pride sticker
stuck to the stone floor
among the grime
under a BART gate,
at Civic Center,
a few days after this year's
LGBTQ celebration
(seems all vaguely bonobo)
in San Francisco,
I wondered how
that dirty rainbow
would fare
years ahead
in this city of
some resistance,
a little dissent,
differentness, otherness,
queerness even -
and explorations,
culturally,
counter-culturally, too.
As I came out up
the escalator
at the corner of
8th and Market Streets,
I saw a man
with a feather, and
a technological device
on an upright stick
on his forehead, and
perhaps a headband too.
Was it a little camera,
or a third eye?
A person of color
with not too long hair,
was this a modern day
techno-hippy,
in this Applee-computer
city, this metropolis
of techno-social-media-hood-ville,
this gritty urban
northern-most peninsula-tip
of SF's do-it-yourselfness,
and information technologically, too?
I walked on to the
AFSC/Quaker Meeting in SF
on 9th Street, not far from Ananda Fuara's
vegetarian restaurant, and to
World University and School's
Hive Meeting Space there -
to write this poem.
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