Member-only story
Don’t Look For Love In the Castro
Inspired by my recent stroll through lovely San Francisco
**For David Priggie and Alvin Kim**
The Mix — the patio sizzling with
various, savory scents and meats,
casual shorts bulging with thick wallets,
hard-ons, thighs tightened from a late
afternoon spin class, marinating in
crisp cologne, pungent from the fiery
West Coast Sun
David, taking another whiff of poppers:
Don’t look for love in the Castro, huney.
Toad Hall — the main dance room cloaked
in a seductive frock, sequined with jewels
from the mirrorball, awaiting the dancers,
awaiting the dance, desperately peering
through the windows, like a college party
in its infancy
Alvin, glancing up from his half-finished Manhattan:
Don’t look for love in the Castro, gurl.
Twin Peaks Tavern — the ancient, cherished
cavern, a haven for the poor, displaced
orphaned children whose parents would
rather kill themselves than say, “I love you.”
The…