New Year’s in SF

A few years back now I went to a New Year's party with a friend in SF. I wrote about it in my blog. Later I converted it into this poem.



New Year’s in SF

A friend has invited me,
The Burbite,
To: New Year’s Eve in San Francisco.

It’s formal.
Its cocktails from the homeless.
It’s San Francisco.

He and his wife hesitate about dress.
She’s lesbian.
He’s gay.
It’s San Francisco.

He asks,
“Should I wear the cummerbund or harness?
She’s not sure.
It’s San Francisco.

He chooses the harness,
Black over his chest hair.
--The cummerbund with no shirt.
It’s San Francisco.

Did I mention the Chesapeake Retriever is wearing a wedding gown?
We haven’t even started drinking yet.
It’s San Francisco.