A million years ago at the Lounge.
Sweet girl. Would talk to me. I
was not a percipient witness have no stories to tell.
This is Pitcher Street in Kalamazoo. Once a bustling industrial section, it is slowly giving way to taggers and decay. The closing of Checker left a rotting carcass behind. The east side of the street is a wasteland; the west slowly withers, given over to the relentless taggers, artists and imbecilic juggalos. It’s just a question of who is stronger. the businesses hanging on, or entropy, atrophy and anarchy.
This is a Checker Marathon. Below is what remains of their whelping grounds. More “ruin porn” after the jump. Continue reading “They Don’t Build Them Like That Anymore”
at a beat up garage full of old school stuff, desks and such.
a Kalamazoo. Here are some night shots.
Marilyn Monroe was not there singing “Happy Birthday.”
Kicking around on a piece of ground
In your home town
Waiting for someone or something
To show you the way
That will be us in one short long week. Continue reading “Half a page of scribbled lines”