Welcome – The San Francisco Review

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

Issue #1, Nov.-Dec. 2017 – Contents:

 
 

Digital Ambivalence

Wacky minions every day
bubbling from coffee cups
electronic tablets
all sizes holding sway

A harrowing despair
spilling over everywhere
bodies pink and overweight
pasted into chairs

Frantic fingers plinkity plink
fussing over pricey drink
overflowing greed
an arrogance that lingers

Packs of over eager
hungry and ambitious yupsters
simply won’t look up
pawing pointless gadgets
a south of Market coffee shop

 
 

© 2017 by Robert Lane Wilder

Machiavellian Business Snakes

Machiavellian Business Snakes - art by Frost Newton
Spotlights on the fellers
felling old growth trees

Hateful CEOs
wrecking homes of creatures
steamrolling habitats
wiping out wetlands
pulverizing nature

Corporate crooks who factory farm
deceptions at the core
sweeping under carpets
the damage that they do

Parasites fakes
machiavellian business snakes
shortsighted money grubbing
wormy squirmy weasels

Typically in coats and ties
narcissistic weenies
propagating waste and ruin
bulldozing nature

Hatching globs of air pollution
machiavellian business snakes
claiming they know what it takes

All wound up inside a monstrous
zillion dollar tower
exercising strangleholds
flaunting daunting power

Making sure even more life forms die
this barbaric juggernaut
the hollow world of suits
multiplies its knockout blows

Pumping toxins into rivers
dumping plastics in the ocean
all the time refusing to accept responsibility
high strung dipshits
power grasping pricks
raping mother earth

  

Drawing above by Frost Newton

 

© 2017 by Robert Lane Wilder

The Savior

On Powell Street a few blocks up from Market,
a rail thin, black transsexual in hot pants and a bra
is yelling at people, “25 cents. That’s all I need
to get something to eat!

When I put a dollar in her hand, she says in a high-pitched voice,
Oh my God, darling! You saved my life!

And after I walk a few steps past her, I turn and see her
moving through the crowd, probably to the Burger King
or McDonalds where she’ll savor her food
as if it was a gourmet meal,

and maybe say a prayer for me. . .

the one who saved her life.
 
 

© 2017 by Jeff Zable

Casing the Headlands

Casing the Headlands

In these hills
enormous guns
defended North America.

Out by Rodeo Beach
mammoth 15 inchers
kept enemies at bay.

Gath’red by these clumps of trees
a ghostly klatch of inductees…
in this air orderlies
from other eras congregate.

Attachés from long ago
in silver hazes by the sea…
peeling off metallic notes
a buoy ripples fiddle dee dee

Gazing at some blue sea stack
(along this coast a shimmery glaze),
taking in thwacking waves

Like Helmut Lang in days of yore
prancing this majestic shore,
a slinky wisp I wander
trails around Hill 88.

Wondering what will be
fifty years from now?
Maybe Gaucho reincarnates
undisturbed and free,

Perhaps they’ll be scooched
beside another wag like me
who also comes to perorate
atop 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 Robert Lane Wilder

The Mass Transit Blues

Breaking right through safety nets
no help for the sick
billed a hundred thousand times
whatever is the going rate

Jerked around by Kafkaesque
health insurance bureaucrats
treated like a piece of lumber
peon tagged with ID number

Corporato profiteer robots everywhere
(ambitious souls who do not care and
could not be more cruel)
smarmy suits they swagger
pretending that they’re cool

Where is love where compassion
human warmth out of fashion
space cadets in public spaces
slinging mostly stressed out faces

Tightly wound minions croaking
what does all this mean
jittery fingers palpitating

Trudging down a filthy sidewalk
between trash heap squares and screws
miseries a zillion billion bundled up shoving throughs
between every hangdog face

The mass transit blues

  

-copyr. 2017 by Robert Lane Wilder