Tag Archives: graffiti

Found Tags

Fear ghosts, god, graffiti, guardian angels, and home.

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Filed under Day Poems, Night Poems

Wrapper

Yarn taggers and their measured screams along the overpass wake me before dawn. Or it’s the siren again. Leftover fireworks, a dumpster diver slams the lid, not gun shots. I just imagine the drama unfolding in a half-spun, sticky dream. … Continue reading

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Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems, Night Poems, Overnight Poems

Cleveland Graffiti

Burned out, abandoned with warnings that exhale on the stern facade. One letter per pane, tagger’s red paint spells it out for me: E L E V A T O R S H A F T D O N O … Continue reading

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Filed under Afternoon Poems, Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems

Into Shreds

The speakers are silent and scratched in their encasements. Videographers form a line around your ruin. This is no time for an apocalypse. These shadows tower over notes someone left on the ground. To be decoded or ghettoized as graffiti, … Continue reading

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Filed under Morning Poems

If I Could Have Been Eva 62

Somewhere way uptown “Bird Lives.” Barefoot and in love, two dart through wet cement. Pen pals will be  spawned. Stenciled broken promises, the Bronx could have come crumbling  down. But it’s held on for the ride. When the last of … Continue reading

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Filed under Overnight Poems

Graffiti Blues

Dark lipstick stains on the rim  of a coffee mug, a juice glass, cigarette  filter, napkin, so far from the neighborhood  of your lips—they can’t be tagged.

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Filed under Overnight Poems

Tiny Changes at the Last Minute

Accidents no longer mistakes. Nothing about buildings or fences, not another bridge,  a scrap of graffiti rides  out on the 11:45 train. Her net is small, her heart large. She just wants to take a closer look then let you … Continue reading

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Filed under Night Poems

Tweening

Often scratched with a sharp object, the head is represented. Many lack  noses. Do not require necks. Absent or ambivalent emotional expression has proven effective. The symbol for drinking does thicken  for a ragdoll type. There has been much debate … Continue reading

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Filed under Overnight Poems

Scratch (Day 2,426)

Graffiti isn’t graffiti unless she calls it. On an old water tower crowning an abandoned grain mill—  perhaps. “Erin I love you” attaching itself to the “and then it got very cool” end of Ashbery’s poem on a pedestrian  bridge—definitely. … Continue reading

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Filed under Day Poems