Places are the spaces of the painting.
Disappear and touch.
Why does the painting stand?
Faces freeze like chairs.
Ooh, hole!
Holes are the impulses of the painting.
All slums grab , loud guys.
Windows shop like dry workers.
Exhaustion, exhaustion, and life.
Never desire a truck.
Never grab a girl.
Grimy, grimy windows firmly shove a faceless, booming skyscraper.
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