Tonight I heard Neko Case, that fierce songbird, and can't stop marveling that the words and the voice could both spring from one person.  Such a surfeit of gifts. The line that made me laugh was:

I'm not even wearing underwear
It's not exotic
I just forgot

But the line that makes me wish I'd thought of it myself is always:  

It was so clear to me
That it was almost invisible


Home now, breathless from climb from the BART station, nearly four months removed from a summer of walking and no longer any match whatsoever for San Francisco's topography, my ears aching with a brand new chill, as if the weather had only just gotten hold of a calendar.  I go to the window to close the blinds and see, just outside, directly across from the house, a stout raccoon.  He jaywalks toward me like a portly gentleman, hurrying but with dignity. He turns left in the driveway and ambles out of sight.

I have never seen a raccoon in this neighborhood.
Some concerts leave everything feeling like a poem.