any takers?
When we moved to the building
we learned the lesson fast
when the backpack in the lobby
was filled with syringes
and now I live in the building
and the black man in a black sweatshirt
is sleeping on the sidewalk
yelling as people go past
and the stains by the tree
still remind me
of the man’s shit
as it fell down his legs
and the smell from the crack heads
such a terrible stench
scared me
as I opened the front door
on that Saturday night
when I was at the bar
and they were selling drugs on my doorstep
in pants too tight
with voices too raspy
and by the Taco Bell
I always see the dealers
waiting patiently
there is one with a tattoo
of a lipstick mark on his neck
and they call me beautiful as I walk by
and a block away
the Asian woman is yelling
at the top of her lungs
and the couple is shouting
and the boys are getting arrested on the ground
and it goes like this:
hello, sorry to bother you
but I lost my wallet today
I live in Daly City
could you spare a dollar for a BART ticket?
and it goes like this:
as it’s springtime in the Tenderloin
I found this video I made my freshman year at CCA—I would suggest skipping the first minute and a half.
I’ve been having some weird dreams lately.
Oh, if only you were a book
and you were easy
to carry around in my pocket
and look at time and time again.
You would give me your undisturbed attention
and never leave me alone:
only I could leave you
only I could close you up
flip you over, pencil marks onto your skin.
And I would have pages and pages of you
and spend an infinite minute with each word
I could revisit those pages as many times I desired
and appreciate your folds, the ink on your paper
the careful craft holding your many pieces together.
If only you were that easy,
if only you were a book.
Moholy-Nagy
(I’ve never been so interested in Graphic Design)
Moholy-Nagy
Moholy-Nagy
Armin Hofmann is my new favorite
