The Waterfall Under the Golden Gate

Through the thiiiiiiiin inlet throat,
that Golden idol, our torpor portal,
this thick fog is a ground cloud
obscuring the last exploitable estuary,
evacuation route for
every river in these mountains.

Once they begiiiiin
they’re final trip
towards open waters
away from bodies
siiiiinging across the high skies
mostly the milk of whales
will allow mid-river ghosts
to reside on the other side
where the dead get fed

Between two islands and three tall rocks
ambushing short faced bears,
and sharp tusked cats
giant sloths had more nabbable habitats
pollinating, propagating Joshua Tree
up near me?

When the ice age
catches the bay between her arms,
the fullest flow cascades
two hundred feet right there
the deepest hole carved through
the narrowest cut in the coast range

when the bay waters fell
that waterfall flowed
right below right below
when any one of us fall
that waterfall'll flow 
right below right below

Once they pierce the gate it’s too late
bringing death breath they profligate
build sidewalks
with your grandma’s bones
too toxic to rematriate
then they blew up the bridges and
the fog trapped the fallout but then
the farmers market crawled out when
no way back to our farms my friends

We only get fed when
death cycles round again
if they cannot find the sea
that’ll be the death of me

We only get fed when
life spirals catch a friend
if we cannot climb this tree
that’ll be the death of we

Where the dead are fed (3x)

When the bay waters swell,
that waterfall will flow
where you go
wherever you go

When the bay waters still,
that waterfall won’t fill you
cuz you’re ill,
you forgot to feed the dead.