a man came into the gallery.
vagrant, although a rude word.
he inquired, "it's photographs right?"
a rustic voice.
i knew he had no money to donate
let alone money to eat so i let him in.
he entered, looked, chatted with
me. "is he a police officer?"
"he" meant the artist i gathered.
"no.". "oh, these could be any city."
"yes, all cities are the same."
he walked outside, sat on the stoop, disappeared.
vagrant, although a rude word.
he inquired, "it's photographs right?"
a rustic voice.
i knew he had no money to donate
let alone money to eat so i let him in.
he entered, looked, chatted with
me. "is he a police officer?"
"he" meant the artist i gathered.
"no.". "oh, these could be any city."
"yes, all cities are the same."
he walked outside, sat on the stoop, disappeared.
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