August 5, midday

San Fiasco -
city of ex-boyfriends and earthquakes -
I ponder all its possibilities
and chew my lip some more
I'm exhausted by all this chewing, I swear.
Riding around, trying to bike away from myself,
I came across the mythic multicolored pavement of glass
(and a storm I thought I had outrun).
Stunned, I lay down immediately to write
for I knew this sign to give me the rightness
of place.
If only there were some such sign for cities.
Like lightning maybe, without rain, or
a tattoo of a nickel on someone's butt.