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San Francisco Loneliness 1968 69in English And Spanish , Arts And Entertainment

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San Francisco Loneliness (1968 69)(In English And Spanish)

In San Francisco my only friend was the bottle, everyone else had let me down (or so it seemed)…

I'd buy cheese-spread for crackers and sandwiches, wash it down with a coke or a beer…

Walk around Castro Valley, half drunk, looking at queers; out to North Beach and even Golden Gate Park, play some ball, watch the hippies build fires.

I dare not drink during the week (after one test run), I'd get too thirsty and never make it home.

On Saturdays I went to the movies, they cost $1.25 for three… and it seemed I'd always bring back home to my apartment (afterwards) those damn flees…

But expensive movies I couldn't' afford, so there I'd stay, watching the movie, in the dark, as unforeseen noises came, I was not used of: breathing hard all around me: groans, moans, people masturbating, young and old (it was a new and weird world for me, at twenty-one);

Some winos had bottles in their hands, whores trying to make them pay and climax; and their I was in the middle of all this, watching a movie for kicks—boredom: eating chicken legs, wings, and breasts: watching the movies as it all digests…!

Note: A true account of some of the author's days in San Francisco in 1968-69. 2/25/06 #1249

In Spanish Translated by Nancy Penaloza

San Francisco Soledad (1968-1969)

En San Francisco mi única amiga fue la botella, todos los demás Me habían dejado de lado (o así parecía)-

Yo compraría queso-untado para galleta salada y bocadillos, rociándolo con una coca o una cerveza……….

Pasear por el Valle de Castro, medio ebrio, mirando maricones; afuera de la playa norte y aun del portón dorado del p

arque, jugar algo de pelota, ver a los hippies prender fuego.

No me atrevía a beber durante la semana (después de un ensayo) tendría demasiada sed y jamás hacerlo en casa.

Los Sábados, iba al cine, ello costaba &1.25 por tres… y esto significaba que yo siempre regresaría a mi apartamento (después) de esas malditas huidas.

Pero películas caras yo no podía pagar, entonces allí yo estaría, viendo el cine, en la oscuridad, mientras imprevistos ruidos venían, yo no estaba acostumbrado, respirando fuerte todos alrededor mío: gemidos, quejas, gente masturbándose, jóvenes y viejos (este era un nuevo y extraño mundo para mi, a mis 21 años).

Algunos alcohólicos de vino tenían botellas en sus manos, prostitutas tratando de hacerles pagar y orgasmos; y allí yo estaba en el medio de todo esto, viendo la película por placeres aburridos: comiendo piernas de pollo, alas, y pechos: viendo las películas como todo asimilado…!

Nota: un relato real de algunos días del autor en San Francisco en 1968-69. 2/25/06 # 1249


See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com Poeta Laureado de San Jeronimo de Tunan, Peru

See Dennis' new book in Spanish and English, "Poetic Images Out of Peru," at http://www.bn.com or http://www.Alibria.com


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