Concrete fiends white asphalt lines and felt tip shavings shaken up up down down.
Blackened gravel masks the gutter rats whose purity greys the town.
But beware -
Signs make a point to pin an alley pegboard with a whore's leg, spin her headcase from its manhole, roll a flagpole down its floorplan, and exit twosteps short of random, rounding corners while counting former brushmarks on the wall.
Just don't fall too far from the storied 5th, where Annie finds her fishnet cliffs
askew, for her letters make for millions when the tricks ride the low tide blues
in tan and shade.
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Also by waylan choy
