3 p.m., Jan. 22
Golden Hill garden. You can smell fruit fallen off the plum trees and gone into a purple rot, you can smell dog shit. Your toe touches the carcass of a rat.
Posted June 27, 1991
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San Diego, my lovely
Stretching east of 30th Street, the Mid-City mesa has for decades been a Gasoline Alley wasteland of car washes, card parlors, dinky pink bungalows: low-rent neighborhoods whose obscurity is secured by distance from freeway off-ramps.