I get it every year, possibly even stronger. The opening line still gives me chills every read-through: > Cannery Row in Monterey in California is a poem, a st

I get it every year, possibly even stronger. The opening line still gives me chills every read-through: > Cannery Row in Monterey in California is a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream.