I just saw a homeless kid on the subway.

I couldn't tell whether or not he was

2 years older or 2 years younger than the two of us. Tattoos covered both his
arms except a burn scar covered the tattoos on his left, from his shoulder to
his hand. There was a dog with him. I would rather say he didn't have a dog
because I'm not sure the dog was his companion. The dog was tired. e at
!rst sat on his hind legs while the kid addressed his life to us in the car. "ut
as many times as I've heard this story from the faceless who pass b#w
subway cars like the gaps in my memory, the dog had heard this story as
many times. The only di$erence being that he heard it from the same
particular face every time. %rom the same face the same procession of the
same hunger and the inability to ask why the hunger has no end. &s the kid,
our brother, repeated his life, that is to say his story, the dog slumped down,
on his side, his head against the subway pole. I gave our brother a dollar. I
had four more in my wallet. The doors opened and the bell rang. The doors
closed and our brother yanked the leash. 'nce, did not rouse him. Twice
neither. 'ur brother kicked the dog harder than he had meant. 'ur brother
had trouble standing. e then yanked and pulled the leash upward until the
dog chose to rise or have di(culty breathing. The leash wasn't tight, it was
loosening, he could have slipped himself out of it if he could have. The dog's
eyes were bloodshot. e didn't know how to ask why. )hy did he follow our
brother into the next subway car* The dog was black. "lack like the crusted
blood in the needle of our brother's back pocket.
disintergreation
i I have to pay for it
and they get paid for it
banksy
motherfather+
man in the mirror, ,-
./0+1222/d22..j