OCEAN BREEZES, SPRING FEVER, 1970s, SAN FRANCISCO
A great wind draws itself up, then herds its wild
colts from the Pacific Ocean, across San Francisco,
leaving faeries behind to hug at knees, lassoing
legs with spider-gauze. Brace your feet! The sky’s
motorcycle brats rush forward, brake on Potrero Hill.
Their tires shred in the chain-link canopy over
a walkway spanning Highway 101 where it races
toward Hospital Curve. With cloud and sun,
the canopy drops a shadow net that traces the scales
on the giant shadowfish that wriggles in its net.
We tread, skitterish on that moving ground, over
the roaring stream of cars below, on our way
to 24th Street. There the deli man has forgotten
his prices, spring confusing his hostility. Sleep easy,
anguish of April. Adios, muchachos, compañeros
de ma vida, barra querida… The young men
in hairnets and leather jackets school at 24th
and Hampshire. A day like this feels bountiful
as the Ace of Cups. Invisible pearls bead in our
nostrils. We drink from the secret springs in air.
- James Eilers, copyright 2007
The tune of “Adios, muchachos…” (Goodbye to my buddies ["the companions of my life"] at the local bar…) became known in the United States with the words “I Get Ideas.”
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