He Played Real Good For Free

San Francisco continues to charm the world-weary. At the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival in Golden Gate Park—a three-day free concert with five stages and world-class talent—you had your stream of happy, diverse humanity, your pink dreadlocks, your Rhodesian Ridgeback dog huddled under the family sleeping bag to ward off evening’s chill, your It’s It ice cream sandwiches, your hula hoop women and sacks of kettle corn and of course great rockin’ music.

But what magnetized the entire event was a young man in black shoes and a sixties golf shirt typing free verse poems on a portable typewriter. It was turquoise. His handwritten sign said “POEMS any topic” with zero to infinity as the suggested donation.

Zach Houston’s faded ball cap has an infinity symbol on it. The man types poems in public places for a living. Which means his head sports infinite messages on unpredictable topics.

I asked for Boulder love.

Boulderlove gravity
And defy it don't give in
And fall your gorge is
perfecting yearning for rocks
To collect their just return
To earth where they come from
Tumbling slowly down the mountain
Of in love with the river of Colorado

The bracing simplicity of it all, his freckled quiet wit, the clack of keys and the circle of onlookers around him—one tall man in black peered over Zach’s shoulder as he typed my poem. He looked at me, walked over and said, “Clearly you don’t want me reading your private poem!” I laughed and said, “No, it’s public. It’s public art.”

Zach Houston busks poems at grocery stores, art exhibits and to my great good fortune, music festivals. He’s a bit of a celebrity. You can watch him in action on VidSF and CBS. He’s also an artist on a few fronts. With blog sitings and a national buzz.

“It’s a game of imperfections,” a buddhist friend of mine once said about playing golf. I got the feeling watching Zach Houston type that this young poet is right at home with imperfections. With process. With on-the-spot giving. He’s in love with words and happy to put that love on the line.

We lingered a long while watching the torn slips of paper enter and exit his typewriter, women laughing, men scooting nearer. The general grounded happiness made me feel good to be a novelist, part of the world of playing real good for free.

Thanks, Zach. I will tumble slowly down the mountain of in love. How did you know?

Zach Q & A  
Zach close up
Zach's website
Photos of Zach at work courtesy of Kenneth Windsor