I laid the ticket in the exact middle of the crosswalk. The road was wet, shiny, and slick. I looked at it's gorgeously lacquered tar and recognized my adoration for sex and dirt. My body felt overwhelmingly stoic. I was watching something die; I was allowing death. I feared that the people in their cars were mad at me. They wanted green; I wanted white. The air traveled softly with the scent of kerosene and old towels. 

2017. collage. 10 in. x 13 in.