hipstomp photo essays

They call it Urban Planning but
none of these goddamn buildings match.

This yellow thing is like, totally
waiting to destroy the red building.

Chinese shippers thoughtfully adorn
their trucks with grafitti subtitles.

I’m not saying all water towers are
suicidal, but c’mon, you know some of them
look down and think about it from time to time.

The man in the truck is driving home from a long day
at work. What he doesn’t know is in the cables above
his head travels an e-mail telling him he’s been fired.

I have this idea where they should develop jet smoke in different colors and coordinate them according to what day of the week it is. So if you looked up and saw a red jetstream you’d know it was Tuesday or whatever. But I guess they’ll never do this because most people have regular jobs and already know what day of the week it is. Anyways it’s just an idea so get off my back.

Day 287

I met the most amazing and dynamic couple the other day.

I see them all over town.
They go everywhere together, and never
without their jaunty little black rectangles.

They keep four horizontal lines of varying lengths
as pets, and occasionally take them on walks.
It’s all so perfect.

By looking at the two of them, you’d
never imagine anything’s amiss.

But the man, at night, he goes out alone. I’ve seen it.

Day 286

New York is dirty and cluttered.

It’s crowded and noisy.

I shoot conscientiously, to protect you from the truth.

This orange scoop-machine-thingy is fucking awesome. Look at it! I bet it does all sorts of cool shit.

Sunday I took the train to Hoboken to buy some smokes.
Between blocks I spied the river, and a cup of coffee later I was there.
I was there, man. Then I went back to the city.

Down at the Slips I can relax, take it eas', knock off a smoke.