The first graffiti I recall, scribbled on the corrugation in this underpass. I had just learned to read and didn't know what 'SHITE' meant.
Now I search for the trace of the rhyme through thirty years of paint that used to be blue. I shape it into a concrete poem and send it into Gutter Magazine. Overspill - to be published February.
Credit to my co-writer (anonymous).
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