art is mudjulie is scared.accusations from citizens -malicious metal traps - one citizen -trapped -"a_ _rt_ _ _ is mu_d_ _._on_ _e you_ _hi_d _ _ _ _.call (5_3_ - _8_ - 22_2."she stared at the sign -old, letters ripped away."art is mud," he says -art is necessary, she thinks -walking up steps -doors trap, bodies trap.julie is scared.a_ _rt_ _ _ is _ _ _ _ _ _.
Orange Sky You swing the cigarette from your lips to your side, bounce it a little. Ash falls to the ground as smoke drifts up into the haze of a dark-eyed city, a gray phoenix emerging from your mouth. The rare glare of headlights passes slowly, a policeman glancing over his shoulder as you take another drag. You hold the taste in your lungs, letting the tar settle down just a little bit heavier. Expunge. Inhale. Exhale. The bus is late again. The orange glow from orange streetlamps illuminates orange apartments none of this is yours. Shadows play across the street, chasing each other as the light flickers. Cloudy skies