Imprints painted by The Phoenix Theater cabal, flare brightly and disappear within hours. As soon as one painting is dried another painted over.
Paint flowers near garbage cans grow besides debris.
Climbing up walls, trees and saying beauty exists even...
It's destined for a short bloom and hidden.
Daring to live here where existence is panhandled...
Daring to be beautiful in full frontal view of a dumpster.
The young throw color balls into the eye of fate.
I'll meet you here Juliet by the grafitti tree where I left a message, left a message..
Where few are left.
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4 comments:
Beautiful photos and poem.
But, do I misunderstand? They have a special paint that disappears in a few hours?! Or is that poetic license?
'Cause disappearing grafitti would be awesome! No?
No. My poor brain is too literal when I first wake up. One can dream, though. Yes?
Art surrounds us!
Enjoyed this; amazing how much graffiti is around; though i think they should leave the trees alone. ;-)
I agree about the trees.
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