I did not really enjoy this particular reading very much. I think that it was very difficult to follow and gain a grasp of what the author was trying to convey. I did sort of enjoy the beginning, where the author is describing his view of Berkeley. He describes seeing SR-13, from Ashby Ave which runs "Thru the village of the philosopher's theory" (Henderson 119) into the Berkeley hills, passing by "the grand white hotel" (Henderson 120) which I would assume is the Claremont Hotel. He describes a beautiful scene in the city of Berkeley, which lies between the Bay and the mountains (Berkeley Hills). I have seen this area over 100 times and I definitely share his fascination with it.
It is after this point that he kind of looses me. He describes I-5 and the agriculture that surrounds it on your way down to LA. He describes a million different places in LA, only some of which I am really familiar with. I enjoy the way that he describes these places, it kind of gives you a little idea of what they are about, however I am completely lost in the second half of this poem as to what his point is. I read over it twice, and it did not become any clearer to me. He seems to jump frantically from idea to idea, with none of it really making any sense. I am not sure if I am just having a mental block, or if this poem is just really hard to digest, but either way I unfortunately did not enjoy it very much.
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