"And we arrive here from Elat, a torturous twisting river-flow tunnel; depending upon ask Ma'am?? Ma'am Herthurnity // the Ma'am of my Ma'ametteness.
Haight-Ashbury, San Francisco, 1968. I spent the summer in Golden Gate Park.
When I was four or five I had a fever dream, in my parents big double bed. I dreamed I was a ball of cotton rolling on a white plain, trying to get through the
Eye of a
Tour needle. It was not the dream but it was the feeling that most affected me, a feeling like bones rubbing together. I would have this feeling come upon me intermittently most of my early life, maybe once every few years. I did not like the sensation and was afraid of it. I always shook it off; at least until this point in my life. But now I had been in the Army, travelled all over Europe, was here in San Francisco in the world-famous Haight-Ashbury, and much of it by myself. I ought to be able to explore this feeling.
I was sleeping in a tiny room, not spending much time there otherwise, on Page Street, one block north of Haight and one block west of Ashbury close to Clayton. Every room in the place was rented, which in those days was called a rooming house or cheap housing for the poor. There was a big kitchen in the back with a view of the backyard and had a nice feeling to it, with Victorian wood-work and windows. I would make breakfast there every morning, mostly in those days bacon, eggs with bread and coffee or tea. I spent all my days wandering around in Golden Gate Park by myself that summer.
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