We are going to observe the California
Sea Lions – those celebrated aquatic
mammals – at Pier 39, Fishermen’s Wharf,
San Francisco. We walk from the Handlery
to Union Square then board the street car
at 3rd & Kearny and descend, past
the Dragon Gate in Chinatown, left
at the Ferry Building and so to the Pier –
a place of family entertainment, with
a floating restaurant and two tier
carousel. On the marina’s wooden pontoons
families of sea lions bask. To our surprise
they smell like a freshly opened and
very large tin of anchovy fillets preserved
in brine. To our further surprise nobody
else seems to have noticed, or to care.
***
Out of the fretwork shadow of the Bay Bridge
dominating the office window,
away from Kaspar Gutman and Wilma Cook,
from Iva Archer and Ruth Wonderly,
away from the cable cars’ ratchet and clang,
the horns in the distant bay, down a side street,
out of the fog, and into the grilled meat
fug of gossip, the Lucky Strikes
and waiters’ bustling hustle at John’s Grill,
Sam Spade orders chops, baked potato
and sliced tomatoes – in two dimensions,
always black and white, ten point or ten foot high,
celluloid or paper, like the city
always friable and combustible!
***
From the stretch of water between the
Maritime Museum and Alcatraz,
brown pelicans rise like tawny galleons.
By David Selzer