Graffiti/Murals II
Eric Bonholtzer
I saw it under the arched bridges of Vine
A myriad of colors, a swirl of emotion
belched, spat, coalesced into an art.
Tangible, yet out of reach.
The gateway into an unlike mind.
I often wondered why the Louvre did not commission
or the Guggenheim or even the Met, these artists.
Surely latter-day anthropologists would put
these murals up on display as we do hieroglyphics.
Pictographs, with all they conveyed.
Archeologists will dig, scientists will theorize, wrongly
About the streets that shall be torn to waste in the name of progress
as they dig to see what once was, destroying the meaning as they go.
For now, however, I would encourage you to take the time.
Look up, read, see, truly see, these sights: commonplace, remembered and forgotten
And learn just what they can tell, while you are here.
