Chevy to Ford/Abstract to Concrete/Green to Red
That relic of the old new economy blames California...
...and Florida.
People have retreated to their kitchens.
Bitter.
People in small towns remind us that they don't
cling to Bibles and guns.
But big city boys in Oakland do.
Rat-a-tat-tat.
Risotto and robbery fill the nights.
Now they're shooting people in the Mission again.
But it feels so distant in the Wednesday twilight.
Someone was gunned down last night just
a block or two away from where I shoot these images.
I can't help but be drawn to the patina of peeling paint.
I never knew Harrison was so full of green
that is abundantly evident this gray April night.
I pass these green pipes many times a week
but they have never held my fascination the way
they do this evening.
Half way through my snapping, a young woman stops,
transfixed by my image robbery until she says,
"Whatever class your doing this for, I want
to know where it is." I hand her a card
for this blog and enjoy the sounds of her
wistfully reading as she walks away,
"junk...and crime..."
Labels: photography, The Mission
posted by Ladrón de Basura (a.k.a. Junk Thief) @ 10:56 PM
6 comments
6 Comments:
At first I thought this post was some kind of beautiful poem, but then I realized that none of it rhymed. My bad.
Dave - No poetry, just a grocery list. Poetry is for wimpy kids. No wimpy kids at this blog.
So much of life is exactly that, "junk and crime". I guess the best we can do is just use it for all it's worth.
Mark - And even some of our junk gets stolen...but we carry on.
Poetry is in the sight of the beholder. I thik this was a lovely poem. Thena gain, I'm a wimp. ;)
I want to live where you live.
Love the new photo, BTW.
Jill - We'd love to have you live here as well.
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