I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it.
Leave it to lightning to touch a single spire and paint the whole city purple. For that moment, every taxi's windshield is a matted morning glory, every woman's face has its smooth amethyst facets. I like it here. But always the violent thrust back into smog and steel.
homeless man’s yawn
passes to his dog