Street Poetry

I hate taggers.  Seriously, if a tagger ever reads this, I hope you jump off a building and land head first on a message spike.  To me it’s using paint and buildings to replicate pissing on trees.  One is done by an animal is driven by the basest instincts of friend food and foe and is known to lick its own balls… and the other is done by a dog.

That said, street art is another thing entirely, and it doesn’t even have to be great art.  Seeing an otherwise boring building used as a canvas – even by an amateur – can make the day more interesting. Sometimes just the message makes all the difference – street poetry rather than street art.  The other day I came across this.

Odd to say the least.  It wasn’t painted on, more like an orange crayon.  Then about fifty feel later found another line:

This had me puzzled.  The two lines were written by the same crayon and clearly connected.  I told a co-worker about it, an artist and photographer, and she went out to hunt the mystery message down.  Then she found a third part:

Again, the same crayon, about fifty feet before the first one.  Now I realized that I had found them in reverse order initially.  Not only that a few other odd things stood out:

Now, I’m not going to argue this is anything great, but it did at least engage me.  It had a sweet image that contrasted the back alley these were located in.  It presented a mystery because each line had been written differently, possibly by different hands, and the last one was unfinished.  I searched high and low for another line, but not even a Burma Shave could be found.

I like the fact I stumbled across this.  And the fact it’s in crayon at least means no lasting public damage was involved.  Now if only I could find some decent Banksy type art…

NO! No, not that!  I take it back!

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