Poem: ‘The Golden State’
Stephen Knight, 4 January 2001
For Colleen
If not the giant redwoods taking centuries to reach the light, nor the lights- camera-action typhoons regular as clockwork in the murky Tonga Bar, nor, perched above LA, the penitential Getty – its prospect of the coastline smudged by airborne crap, nor even the Chronicle’s news that the universe is flat, and expandingfaster and faster for ever – ‘Wow! Wow!...