7046. WALKING THROUGH THE DARK

WALKING THROUGH 

THE DARK

It was on Union Street, in San Francisco, in fact;

I was walking with a guy now dead, who isn't, from

those days. It was dark, fairly late at night, and we were

forging along in the half-cool bay air. He was smoking

a cigarette, and little was said. There were no carnival

rides in those days  -  everything was dead serious. 

-

People who had passed through town, they'd all already 

left, with their little sundry stories to tell, those big cars

they all dragged around in  -  too big, actually for Lombard

Street  - which was a running joke. Probably the only thing

we ever laughed at. The Art Institute and Coit Tower, the

Embarcadero, Fred Martin and Bob Mahaffey, I thought

they were all funny in their way. Get me some coffee.

Get me some Chinese food from Edsel Ford Wong.

-

I had a room at a little, sailor's hotel down by the piers  -  

dim light, no showers, a few women always hanging around.

A couple of southern types lived nearby, always hopping up 

cars with loud pipes and extra carburetion or something.

It was pretty hard even just to get decent coffee  -  late

nights, early mornings, everything just passed.

The guy with the Chinese restaurant,

'Edsel Ford Wong'  -  yeah, that was

really his name.