i hoist bay bridge


i hoist bay bridge over my shoulder
like a flag 
arm over arm
as human frame climbs
step by step
the stairs of Vallejo Street.
Bridge spans rise in starts over embarcadero foreground
with the steady clomp...clomp rhythm of my ascension.

Bell tolls time when pocket
watch cell phone dies
four o'clock.
Let your feet flow forward
pick a point in the sky and
THAT is where you must walk,
busy brave frenzied friend.

  Coit Tower,
 that great big
dick in the sky
looking down
on us with 
lust waiting 
for an earthquake
to satisfy its vast desire and
send it toppling back to the earth.
Go to it,
it's as good a point as any
save the great san francisco Claw
which can be seem from
fucking Mount Diablo!
Go to it, because
tomorrow you shall see the
Great Vaginal Gash / Eye Of Sauron
from the good beaches of Marin
and you shall return to The Womb
and take lots of great pictures.
Gender is a social construct.

Your hair falls in helixes--
soft brown sprongs that
twist the nuclei of my
cells and zip unzip until my
body is twisted around yours--
ancient simple human code,
magic marker for
shortness of breath and
tasting the rainbow color of bliss
in your cup overfloweth brain.