I stood by the ocean the day I heard
feeling the weight of the wind under deep dark clouds,
taking photographs that now you'll never see--
and I remember when you were here, and we pondered
thinking of the forests we grew up around
and the other shore, closer to there but rarely visited--
we wondered, that afternoon
whether this coast was merely another continent,
or a whole different planet.

riding up the noisy Powell cable
the air smells oddly of fresh nova lox
with a slight fruity tang - from where?
as, out on the hill, dozens of iPods
walk determinedly past windowfuls
of lingerie and jewelry
living the history, still
of San Francisco

those three chimes again!
you know this number by heart,
oh heartless device!
you used to dial it without fail
when I was sleeping with her.

but now that all I want is dinner
and all she wants is some obscure favor,
three chimes signify
you won't even try to place the call.