BEGIN:VCALENDAR
VERSION:2.0
X-WR-CALNAME:www.indybay.org
PRODID:-//indybay/ical// v1.0//EN
BEGIN:VEVENT
UID:Indybay-18855641
SEQUENCE:19020204
CREATED:20230425T171500Z
DESCRIPTION:San Francisco authors read from their work. That means you, too. \nSan 
 Francisco located stories given preference. \nMic-less open-mic. 
 \n\nLoose-leaf authors \nscat \nter \nwords in \nthe wind sha \ndow \nof a 
 library \n\nThis week Dalck Teblehei reads his $20 prize-winning poem, 
 Mitchell's. \n\nHer long, thin arm pointed the way to Mitchell's Ice Cream 
 where\nA line, thin as her arm but much longer,\nStretched up the 
 sidewalk.\nDespite the two scoops, her arms remained \nThin and long as 
 time, which\nHas all but obscured her face;\nAnd if it weren't for Thoth in 
 regalia\nDown in the cavern of the BART station eliciting \nHer laugh,\nI 
 wouldn't have that.\nWhat's sweet after all these years is Mitchell's\nAnd 
 not the kisses, thick and long, we never took.\n\n\n$20 prize for the best 
 Real Estate-centric poem!! \n\nHERE'S A PAST BERNAL LITTERATI WINNER: 
 \n\nSAN FRANCISCO'S FAILURE TO COMMUNICATE ABOUT REAL ESTATE \n\nThe hills 
 are bedrock \nLifted up by subduction \nJust like the high rent \n\n\nAND 
 ANOTHER: \n\nI've got an electric bi-i-eek \nI've got an electric bi-eek 
 \nSometimes I don't switch it on, but \nIt's still easy to ride; \nI listen 
 closely to the talk I cruise by, and \nMost everyone has something, 
 \nSomewhere they're going; \nEven when I pass by the mortuary, \nThe nomads 
 in tents face the statutory, \nPropane camp tanks feeding Fentanyl to the 
 masses, \nAnd men and women all making passes. \nRussian oil splattered 
 roadkill debris; \nI hit every red light when I ride this street, \nBut 
 still I only hear half that I meet: \nI'm still too fast for the others; 
 \nListen now, sisters and brothers, \nI ride an electric bi-i-eek \nI ride 
 an electric bi-eek \n\n\nAND HERE'S ANOTHER \n\nThere are murals around 
 town painted Rubin Rude: \nThe faces of public places \nSuch as, for 
 instance, the Bernal Branch library's eastern wall. \n\nIt strikes me, 
 though, that in Women's History Month \nWomen muralists ought to get half 
 the space, don't you think? \nEvery year we ought to put the vertical 
 places up for auction \nSo that who does the talkin' isn't just who got 
 there first. \n\nYeah, let the boys pay the girls not to put up stuff if 
 \nThe boys want to keep that public viewshed theirs. \nI mean, if the girls 
 like the stuff already there, \nDon't bid for the space. Let it ride. 
 \n\nBut humdinger, if Benioff wants to shout to the world \nWith that great 
 big outie thing, but some gal with a brush \nAnd a can of paint has 
 something to say, \nI say make him have to pay her not to splash her story 
 in the air. \nIt's our sky, isn't it? \nWell isn't it? \n\nAND ANOTHER: 
 \n\n700 trees down in San Francisco; \nTheir roots loose in the 
 rain-bloated earth, \nTheir boughs yardarms caught in gale after gale 
 \nTill the keelson snapped, \nCracking sidewalks into white-capping chop. 
 \nAnd elsewhere, everywhere, all around town it’s a raggedy old place, 
 \nBent and shorn by plague and \nA long, wet winter the likes not seen for 
 44 years— \nMe too, long in the tooth, long on remembrance, no longer 
 merely a lad with big ears for the old-timers’ tales, \nBut myself 
 witness, back then, to the longest pleated turns of sun and drenching 
 winter storm-blown screaming Hell ever known by living soul. \nAnd you? 
 Don’t ask, don’t tell \nLest I pop your skaldic, pompous truth, 
 \nWhich, like mine, \nNever heard from Noah’s lips \nThe whopper drowned 
 the world. \n\n https://www.indybay.org/newsitems/2023/04/25/18855641.php
SUMMARY:Bernal Litterati [sic]
LOCATION:amphitheater outside the Bernal Branch Library\n500 Cortland Avenue\nSan 
 Francisco
URL:https://www.indybay.org/newsitems/2023/04/25/18855641.php
DTSTART:20230427T000000Z
DTEND:20230427T010000Z
END:VEVENT
END:VCALENDAR