Checkerboard

The site is no longer here on Freeman Avenue and Anaheim Street; it has been demolished. The airbrush beautifies the city for function and form. It’s stripped of its loveliness: same day. Unless you look closer you’re going to see it as dormant.  Chase the rundown characters. The treasure in the trash. Pop the prim and proper with the thrasher.

At the bottom of the blue jean’s inseam the denim cuts open covering the black leather sole technology. Shuffling and sliding steps across the platform; huff and puff. One foot over the other across the eight by eight checkerboard. The proficiency into the territory of the enemy; pick up another piece to move even more freely. King me.

The micro process utilizes platform spaces like stages; nobody is working here today. Smash the electronics and get out there before you’re folded up and put away in a box. This is the board game and skateboarding mashup. Spin the pieces with a single jump strategy and land where you never thought you could be. The mic is there for us to use. The extension ladder is put away behind the security fence. No need for the gaffer’s craft outside. No need for the set design because the wavy blast of two-tone stucco mocks the throw up graffiti cover. The gutter is dry.

Between buildings, the narrow space like an alleyway, is wide enough for the golden sunlight to shine through onto the main attraction. The back light edges the subject’s head like a barber with sharp shears and shaves gold flakes on the stucco. Low fade. Burnt out cigarettes roll into the crack spot. Green plants grow, weeds or possibility, in crevices according to the gardener’s specs.