The floor of the FranklinCovey Printing plant may not exactly qualify as the Street. But it definitely holds poetry. This is part of a larger photo essay which will be posted soon on Flicker or PhotoBucket.
Category: Found Alphabets & Street Poetry
What I love about walking in the city is looking down at the ground. That trance-state when your eyes lead you forward and then stop you in stillness under the shadow of a telephone pole and its coiled yarn or in front of a dumpster lid on which years of abrasion have carved electric z's.
Thank you Brian Eno….
Maybe all love notes should be encrypted. Found O, construction site, upper Greenwood.