9655. CARS IN THE LIVING ROOM

CARS IN THE LIVING ROOM

Oilfish in the tanker cars : like a glass-bottomed

boat but seeing nothing. There was one time, at

Cannery Row. I was there, in California; in fact

it was Monterey. Just bumming. Had stayed a

few days in an abandoned warehouse and pier

with three other guys, two from San Francisco, 

and one on the run from Carmel-by-the-Sea, 

where Clint Eastwood was Mayor, he said.

Then, one morning, I'd scratched up enough,

like eight bucks I think, to go down in a

Bathysphere. So I went. It could have been

touristy, but thankfully wasn't  -  a rainy 

mornng, no others around, none of that.

It's just a big tub, with thick glass windows. 

-

It hangs from a hoist or something and they 

lower it down, whatever the depth of the bottom

is  -  I can't remember here, maybe it was a

hundred feet, maybe more. Because of the dank

day not much light was coming down  -  kind

of all gray , and almost opaque. Some fish, some

weeds, things floating by. The fish were cool,

the place seemed serene, waterworld, enticing.

I thought maybe they could cut the chain, or

unhitch me there, leave me lowered, until the 

air ran out. I'd promised them already,

I wouldn't tell a soul...