Oakland, who are you?

Oakland, who are you?

Are you the man with a handlebar moustache and dirty shoes?
The woman with four dogs, two babies,
on a tandem bike with farmer’s market veggies riding in one seat?

Are you the necklace of lights around Lake Merritt,
Hip hop theater at the Grand,
Or are you beams of light shining through redwood trees?

Oakland, are you urban or suburban?
Edgy or behind the times?
Urban renewal or redevelopment?
Are you Brooklyn, or Detroit?
Oakland, are you change?

Oakland, who are you?

Are you free, oppressed, peaceful, or violent?
North, south, east, or west?
Young or old? Rich or poor?
Sunny, or rainy all the time?
Oakland, do you have an identity?

Oakland, it’s true,
I love you for who you might be,
And for who you might become.
I take advantage of you in your lonely times,
And you of me, in mine.

But Oakland, answer me this,
Who are you?
Who do you want to be?
And who does that make me?