• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 07
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In Any City

Looks like a coyote on the wall. But it's autumn, and from where you're standing, it's just orange with yellow graffiti spray painted in any city. A subway in New York, the T in Boston, the art that escapes these walls is textured as now it is foreign. Is this Barcelona? Or that yoga retreat that was five years ago in Bali?

But in this language the message reads: Compost. The bin in any city that's comprised of a variety of things that don't match. A fence is known as a fence, stucco is universal, and flags that fly in the wind on the sides are what we know. Scattered tires are everywhere: underneath freeways, the side of a dirt road, a backyard―they take up residence anywhere.

This is literally any city to a traveled person in books, in vintage faded magazines, and in thought. I know this city. I've been there.