Down by the Ocean

Poem I wrote during a trip to SF.

San Francisco is nice. Feel like going back home now though. It’s expensive. Petty problems pile up. Never saw Joan and Michael. Probably won’t. Will go to bed soon.

 

Down by the ocean, I felt like Ulysses

Listening to the song of the mermaids.

I  could’ve stayed there,

Slept there. 

I didn’t.

The sun plays tricks on you here.

 

For the first time in a long while, I had here moments where I felt like I belonged somehwere,

Like somehow I was in the right place

Just not at the right time.

Small moments.

 

Walking along the Embarcadero,

Drinking beer in some Union Square bushes .

Yelling at homeless people on Mason,

Smoking a cigarette in Chinatown,

Dipping my feet in the pacific,

 Writing by the docks.

 

It felt good. 

Author's Note

Didn't know if I should've left that first part. Technically it's not part of the poem but I liked it. Kind of like a prologue. Tell me whether should cut it out or leave it in.