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Writer, Father. Entrepreneur. Bum. Atheist. Recluse. Garhwali. Foodie. Downloader. Drifter. In no particular order.

7.8.12

pavement poetry

Pavements are ripe with poetry.

There's ikebana in the weed patch.

See the dumpsters arrange themselves in elaborate origami patterns.

Sometimes I feel the universe is an ambitious art project, and we were created solely to be its audience. Vessels of meat and bone, programmed to perceive beauty, not just in the obvious places, but everywhere- in melancholy and mania, in brothels and skid rows, everywhere.

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