San Francisco sunset

The ever bountiful city by the bay, 
not a place to live but a place to play.
A long way there, a long trip back, 
but we've made it home intact.

I saw the people of the street 
with flesh that looked like fresh ground meat.
One side of Haite lies black with gloom, 
on the other there are flowers in bloom.

In the park I saw the crowds of hippies, The Greatful Dead, 
now everywhere I look I see that little dead head.
I walked through crowds muttering words, 
just looking for elusive herbs.

We walked down telegraph hand in hand,
even a visit to the Wasteland.
We saw the street merchants everywhere,
and a million new styles of hair.

Our last small part was quite unplanned,
we took a wrong turn to east Oakland.
But thanks to luck we escaped,
without being killed or raped.

The sun dipped down below the clouds, 
but left the city wrapped in shrouds.
A bank of fog turned red to gold, 
and then to purple, oh so bold.

Though the voyage home was long and far,
I took a chance and ate a star.
The day in all was a glorious one,
and I hope the future holds a rising sun.

Fulgin...
5/7/92