San Francisco Cantos I and II

I.
Shadows of Haight phantoms of movements
angry drunks and street musicians
hookah shops and vintage clothes.
Need any weed? 
Anarchist bookstore owners haggle
over refunds while the ghosts stare down
from their shelves. Tourists elbow past looking
for something, anything. Take those pictures
on the famous corner while the addicts yell
Fuck you, man! I ain't sharing nothing with you!
Got a picture of Jerry in your window?
Got a tye-dyed shirt with a skull and a bear
trading on Old Gods Long Dead?
Got a picture of Janis, George and Levon?

II.
The shop wanted thirteen dollars for
a fried green tomato sandwich with
something called aioli. In Georgia it would
run about four dollars or less. Pay for
convenience and ambiance and look out
the window in the break in wifely conversation
and see drunks and twentysomethings
and technicolor spectres of ancient pasts.
Shove your aioli
and your homemade mayo
and your five dollar french fries
made from one sustainably grown spud.
Expensive with a taste that I can
recreate at home. Is that your message?
That we should not drive here to eat
food that can be done at home for
less cost and less gas?