east of San Francisco
my car drives
up the brown grass hills
in sun and blue
while laughing
looking
I knew
this was a mistake
Golden Gate
small in the rear view
said go home
you are wrong
in this place
but I kept on
for wine and the Calabrese
were waiting
besides
my time would come
once the water washed me away
till then
California sped on
beneath my summer self
Harnessing Chaos 