Crescent City

By Terri Glass

Here in the most northern reach of California,

a tsunami wave

wiped out 29 blocks of homes and businesses.

The town never fully recovered.

Some businesses still stand

bearing the water line etched into the sides of the walls

like a bad water color painting.

No longer any department stores, bakeries, bookstores.

In the midst of incredible beaches,

rocky shorelines and redwood forests,

lies apathy and methamphetamine—

the loitering of Crescent city.

Homeless camp out in front of Denny’s or Safeway

with the shopping carts they stole.

Sea lions plop themselves on the pier

next to the Chart room restaurant noisy and stinky as hell.

Transients are seen hitchhiking to god knows where—

maybe the redwoods that can give them temporary shelter.

Roosevelt elk hang out in front of the new casino,

cigarette smoke drifts over their golden haired bodies

as they dot the green hillside.

The ocean sucked ambition out to sea.

Maybe it landed in Japan where

people work 12 hour days, 7 days a week.

Maybe some of it drifted just north of town

where prison guards stay hypervigilant

at Pelican Bay State prison that house

the most heinous criminals

within prison walls that have no windows.

In Crescent city, I can see forever

when I face the Pacific ocean from Pebble Beach Drive.

I hear the sea lions honking far out on Castle Rock.

They too motion me to keep looking outward.