Poets in San Francisco

(A legend about Anais Nin and Lawrence Ferlinghetti)

by Nina Serrano

It feels good to write poems in San Francisco
But it would be better if someone 
wanted to read    listen   and talk about poems
in San Francisco.


There is a place where poets meet and love each other
Once I thought it was San Francisco 
but when I got there their coffee houses turned into dress stores.


I think the place where poets meet 
lies in an inner space between
The ribs   the lungs   and hurting loneliness.


A poet fills his bags with rose petals
and empties it on the head 
of another poet.
Her hair is full of petals.
There love poems rhymed and metered bloom
and in that moment of raining flowers
is the place I want to be.

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