SPOTLIGHT: Fog and Bone by Christian Garduno

Market & Powell

Meet me on Market & Powell
magic is the moment
our eyes meet
and the trolley dings as it goes by oh my

You were like 2,000 dreams ago
and now you guest star again
like two children and seven relationships ago
but here we go

I look in your eyes and stars fall
fireworks explode
trains collide in faraway cities
and the clouds hold hands as drift by oh my

Mail me a postcard from Market & Powell
let me know that you made it
and you know I won’t need to save it
I’ll tattoo the postmark across my heart


She pulls you into harmony
now you’re a bit older into sepia
she’s not trying to sing
like Liz Taylor is not trying to act
these aren’t songs
these are faults these are wrongs
sweet and bitter artefacts
personal realities
persona non grata

You live life in vingettes
tiny gold stories on the silver screen
chords and cloudsmoke
chords and cloudsmoke

In fact, I don’t like perfect
it bothers me
stars too brittle to see tonight
you spend all night reaching for the wind
Santa Monica mornings with ash in the well
and the moon is like a hangnail
that won’t let you close the window tonight
oh, what’s another glass of wine

Ach du, you got me soul-dancing tonight
I suppose that’s what you do
out past the cliffs
I wish I could have that night back again
knowing everything I know now
sloppy rain in the morning
every day I think about The City
and who I was within it
and how I’d give my left elbow to be back there right now


I wear your love like an amulet
and when we fight each other, it’s just like Antietam

Why’s your birthday always in December?
and who’s in charge of the music in heaven?
These are things I need to know tonight

I take your love like a sacrament
I keep it around my heart so we never really have to part

Who gets to marry their muse?
and is living a thousand years even enough?
These are things I need to know tonight

Little Russia

She sold my record player
pawned all my sad little records 
M said they ain’t things, yknow 
remember when I lost all mine on the way to the Haight
when we tripped through Golden Gate Park?
and then I felt so free… 
even freer than free
walking over to Little Russia 

the Stolichnaya burning my stomach
in the early afternoon
walking across The City on the way to Leon’s 
all the way back down to St. Anne’s 
Fleeky Franko always with the circus smile
he was fluttering- yay, child, you’ve come back to us!! 
M said to me- I got a couple of bucks




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