SUBWIRED MIND an ode to the grimy concrete, divine passerby, neon nightlife and transcendent street art of montreal through the lens of a beat up lumix

metalloid wire through bent sheet, there is no movement, no swaying in the wind. for the hangman there exists only the sloping staircase behind bars of metal, uninviting door handle- the street. he watches from his static airborne grave and breathes a sigh at the divine passerby, rusty gaze, amalgam heart.

sweaty and superficially pacified bodies gather just beyond the veil of God: the city breathes in the nightsmoke exhaled by spike-clad angels on the venue steps. drum, sound and noise from underneath huddled houses and obscured window pass through and by, to return again.

advertise yourself! cry the heavens down at the ghastly concrete trespassing on the barren earth, the puddles have long filled themselves tall to reflect the divine sky-body back to itself. transcendent body watch car, light fly by.

clenched-jaw defiance: out of place for a muse, he looks up and towards the obscured skyline, past the shaved wood of gutted tree and rusted screw, into the night. o deity of quiet revolution, watch over us in your impermanent existence, for you only exist in the refuge of darkness, to be torn away in the morning.

small reminder on the jail cell, small hands urge the remembrance of times past. look down, hands shrink, look up and undulate onwards. carry within you the smells unpinnable to concrete objects, simply memories, collect them as you walk.

where the supercoiled plastic pythons lead is unknown: their tender bellies bend under weight and press into the sharpened gravel below, sighing a crackling breath of release. they remain in distemperate existence under the wall of signed sigils, slowly refilling their caved in ribcages throughout the night.