Welcome – The San Francisco Review

We’re New. Arts, Letters & Culture from SF Bay & Beyond.

Issue #1, April-May 2017 – Contents:
 
 

George Grosz

George Grosz assigned ideas to imagery poignantly.
Into human folly, grasping zeitgeist by the throat.
He took apart convention and conformity a lot
nailing its reality, civilization in decline.

George Grosz - Kelsey Wilder poetry

Pointing out pointlessness,
the evils of an ugly age.
Grosz a peerless visionary
zeroed in, exposed its veils,
the underpinnings of corruption.

Eagerly he’d spotlight
this milieu, its grim chokehold…
Grosz unequaled social critic
prescient, he foretold.

Everyday I trudge around
disgusted much like him,
social failures wreaking havoc
without and within.

Bureaucrats, pervasive
corporate robots waving fists,
clearing out the best and brightest
from within our midst.

 
 

Drawing above by George Grosz

 

© 2017 by Kelsey Wilder

Machiavellian Business Snakes

Machiavellian Business Snakes - art by Frost Newton

Forests falling down
destructions all around
spotlights on fellers
felling old growth trees

Tough guys gazing into space
flatten unprotected
homes of the innocent

Steamrolling habitats
wiping out wetlands
striking up strip malls

Corporate crooks they factory farm
practice mutagenics
global warming’s just a start
sweeping under carpet
the harms they perpetrate

Damn these parasites these fakes
machiavellian business snakes
shortsighted money grubbing
wormy squirmy weasels

In their hackneyed coats and ties
narcissistic weenies
trumpeting a host of ways
that entangle and divide

Spewing worse than stinky
destructive plumes of air pollution
machiavellian business snakes
claiming they know what it takes
to help poor folks prosper

In reality they hide
inside golden towers
interested in strangleholds
monopolizing power

Killing every creature in the forest
quite capricious making sure
more and more
eco systems vanish

Hollow and barbaric
a juggernaut this world of suits
multiplying knockout blows
pumping toxins into creek beds
dumping plastic in the ocean

All the time refusing
to accept responsibility
evil power prizing pricks
raping mother earth

  

Drawing above by Frost Newton

 

© 2017 by Kelsey Wilder

Casing the Headlands

Casing the Headlands

Snappy cannons in these hills
conveying what’s American.

Here by Rodeo Beach
before there were A-bombs
mammoth gun turrets
kept enemies at bay.

In this place orderlies
from distant eras congregate.
A wistful klatch of inductees
gath’ring under clumps of trees.

Attachés from long ago
in silver hazes by the sea
spindly ring metallic notes
buoys fiddle dee dee

Gazing out at blue sea stack
(along this coast a shimmery glaze),
taking in the crashing waves

Like Helmut Lang in days of yore,
a slinky wisp perambulating
prancing this majestic shore
wandering ’round I lurk and ponder Hill 88.

What ghosts will some strange cat see
fifty years from now?

Will there be another batch of narley
spirits by the sea?
Gaucho reincarnates
loping down scrubby slopes?

Maybe they’ll be perched beside
a dreamy wag like me
who also comes to perorate…
a little philosophical by Hill 88.1

  

1 Rodeo Beach & Hill 88 are in the Marin headlands of Golden Gate park, locations which for a hundred years plus were part of a monster military base. Happily, these are now a staging ground for spectacular sunsets.

  

© 2017 by Kelsey Wilder

Music and Poetry Audio

The following tracks are performances by author Kelsey Wilder with music by Anthony Sepulveda.

Note: Below are short samples only. These are all clips taken from this author’s longer, entire songs or poems. Contact us here to get the full songs or poems.

 

      (clip) The San Francisco Beat - Sepulveda and Wilder

 

      Clamorous Brooklyn - Sepulveda and Wilder

 

      Her Black Crushed Velvet Hat - Sepulveda and Wilder

 

Arts Council Meeting in California

The California Arts Council Butt-Kissing Section

Our minds just don’t open. On this you can count!
The California Arts Council Butt-Kissing Section
invites you to its annual Back Patting Party.

Butt-kissing cronies gain admittance for a pittance.
Any riff-raff wanting in has to cough up bundles.

Pressing our priorities, we practice cliquishness,
vindicating well-dressed clean cut weenies.

We display sanctimonious inauthentic ways
propping up liars with glad handing sneers…
this world’s gauchest brownnosing robot bohemians
make for the drippiest party in years!

  

© 2017 by Trajan Black