Bayview Terrace
by Jim Duff
The sun pukes upon the sea and sets
yellow-white light falls off the horizon
dusk loiters behind the Bay until night attacks it
a Transylvanian moon smiles upon a hospital
morgues pace back and forth waiting to be fed
ambulance drives with blackjacks
stalk the sidestreets
searching for customers
a police car
seeking shelter from crime
patrols a nearby park
foghorns are of the evil spirits of foreign freighters
the freeway fattens on the flood of a car accident
a neon duchy chalks off the casualty
to the exotic rhythm
of cattle screaming with an extra mouth
in Butchertown
concrete tears two layers high
branch off to form other freeways
each seeking to escape from itself
Ulysses grovels in horror
at sights beyond his comprehension
in the shadows of a produce market
dawn
like mild acne
breaks out upon the faceless sky
blue chip stamps find redemption a carpeted calvary.
“Bayview Terrace,” by Jim Duff originally published in Reality Trip ([Forum] 1973, City College of San Francisco).
Forum Literary Magazine 