Adoptive City \\\'67

Adoptive City ’67

God bless SF. May our young

Remerge au domaine des chefs.

The Lovefest of ‘67 filled GG Park ~

I only 8 and too inarticulate to remark. I

Felt it though, and knew this was no

Minor television show. The bad war

Was killing their friends, and these pro-

Tests would be how the injustice ends.

I saw the coffins come back on planes.

I heard the rock stars’ guitars complain.

Was rare, back then, to reproach The Man.

He was the avatar of WWII and Marshall Plan.

In my house all this noise and long hair

Was not a choice. We were coached, beware!

Yet now for two-score San Francisco is my city.

Love it; would never leave it, sitting pretty.

Youth! You called me here to be a citizen.

You said, this town’s about love. You’ll win!

And no matter how techies bright their screens,

Your spirit of diversity and liberality re-scenes.

This anniversary calls for a party in the Park!

Youth and grass and music ~ dawn to dark.

I see three large quadrants: ‘Drugs,’ ‘Sex,’

And ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll’ filling the largest lawn,

Each with its own purpose ~ put upon!

In heaven, Apollo will hold Dionysus in

A head grip, that those party animals

Below don’t lose their grip. Stay cool.

Be hip. No violence, thus, will mar the

Scene, again as gentle as it’s ever been.

In ‘67 the kids really believed their

Partition mattered. That they could

Lock step and stop the slaughter.

Their free love, 420, and acid trips

Loosened the hold of olden grips,

Showing a new way to say, I own this

Country. Put down your arms. As storied

Faces of youth danced and sang and charmed

Me — little kid alone standing ‘fore the set

To watch this news. Yet that was before

The speed and bleed and Dionysian greed’s

Corruption of love to lust lost our Trust.

Some lived/some died the hero. Some would

Come to govern. Some would suicide to zero.

But the war did end. And it’s to your credit

I have said and will defend. Mayflower, Zenned.

Party again you lads and chicks. Protest

These White House icks and dirty tricks.

At your age God picks the disarming ones who’ll

Lead and follow bards for boulevards and farms.

MJM 5/17 SF

If you're going to San Francisco / Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair / If you're going to San Francisco / You're gonna meet some gentle people there. – The Mammas & The Pappas, 1967