things i saw in the street this morning:
- footprints on the top of an abandonded microwave.
- pages of a book strewn across seven city blocks.
things i heard in the street this morning:
- italian conversations, french exclamations & confrontations.
- spanish, german, chinese & other tongues i couldn’t place.

ONE
a beautiful italian-bound hardcover featuring gorgeous prints of some of the earliest photographs ever taken (like this english dandelion from 1839)…
plucked from the dusty shelves of a valencia street used bookstore for less than half its worth…
read over consecutive mornings in an old wooden rocking chair at the window, w/coffee steam & stamina, where the sun flows into the apartment like warm water.

ANOTHER
a 100-dollar banknote…
caught in my dumb fingers while blowing through the dead streets of soma…
verified at a majestic bank w/magic pen & machine, while trying to determine if i’d run like a criminal should it turn up counterfeit.
FALL FASHION VICTIMS VERSUS FLASH PHOTOGRAPHY
to come of age in the modern world is to realize
on your own that
there’s a difference between $tyle & substance… because everywhere you turn will swear otherwise.
Modern Lovers - expired film
i’ve spent the last three days & nights huddled into the corner of a couch, by an old lamp that flickers like a candle, fevered & feeling worse than a pile of putrid garbage cooking in the august sun.
being sick is like being dead w/out the release. a fall w/out the jump. purgatory on earth.
still. if i could learn to appreciate this sort of thing, even this, that would likely be the key to everything.