The Illustrated Man

His canvas is withered; once a gallery display, Now ‘distasteful’ graffiti on recycled paper. If auctioned back then, they would’ve been collectible, Now faded, only fluorescent in sepia photographs.   Once young and kicking, but that’s forgotten, as if his art’s backdrop was always creased mess. Once complimented, they’re now ignored, Like taboo patterns on… Continue reading The Illustrated Man

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