do i miss golden gate park and the bridge and the other bridge and the other bridge and the burritos
and stepping over homeless dudes with needles still in their arms
and cold summers and zero rock scenes and no parking
and cable cars and the n judah and the 26 mission and f market
and the highest rents in the whole wide world
and lower haight and upper richmond and barting to the east bay
and flying into a cloudy soupy grey bump in a log
and sailing among white caps
and kissing irish girls and being amazed by marin and the redwoods and sea lions and fair weather niner fans
and smelling weed everywhere
and smoking weed everywhere
and kissing the truest everywhere
and the dot com startups and the tech bubble start ups
and the silicon valley start ups who can do everything except
recreate soul.
do i miss the asian ppl and the tourists and the mexican kids and the three remaining hippies and the tenderloin and the 500 club and the midtown and the italians and the playgrounds that are all fenced in and the hills and the tall buildings on the hills
and the way the grass looked blue cuz of the shrooms we ate on divis so we walked and walked
do i miss the walking or the ugliest beach in all the land or how they said the presidio would not be sold to the highest bidder but to the poor and the non profits and the charities, but alas
do i miss the sourdough and chinatown and begging a chinese girl on a date for a kiss and when she finally delivers saying meh
right to her pretty face
do i miss the street fairs and amoeba and the gay ppl and surprise flowers growing in the weirdest little places
and victorian after victorian after victorian
and giant churches and little churches
and little shops beneath the stairs?
nah.
jk. hella.