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Tag: Don Eli

Old Friends

“You have grey hair,” said Don Eli, looking up from his dinner plate at Sacred Grounds.  We’ve known each other for ten years. True enough, our hair color has both changed to a much lighter shade since we first met. There was a time when we saw each other every Wednesday, until Don decided to hang out on Haight Street reciting poetry for money.  There must have been a gap of six, seven years before he popped back into Sacred Grounds again. His observation was a reminder of how time has passed.

“I’m proud of my grey hair,” I said. “This is an achievement, not without effort.”

Don agreed.

 

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Haight Street Blues

Don Eli

Don Eli had a gentle voice.  When he read his poems sometimes we couldn’t hear him.  Then Don disappeared from the scene.  I bumped into him many months later standing on Haight Street talking to some passer-by.  He had taken to the street, reciting poems by request for money.  His voice had become strong and loud and his gestures expansive.  I was amazed at his transformation.  He had since been a fixture on Haight Street for many years.

Being a street poet Don had to overcome many obstacles.  Solicitation had to be understated and fun so people wouldn’t get scared or intimidated.  He learned to project his voice and be theatrical so his patrons got their money’s worth.  But the biggest problem for Don was the street gangs.  They didn’t like him and wanted him out.  Don persisted, until recently, when during an evening a group of men gathered half a block away from him with looks to kill.  Don had no intention to get beaten up so he fled and that was the end of his street gig.

Don is back at the Sacred Grounds.  When he reads the room is too small for him.

Photo by Travis Snelling.

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