Oggy's fat free ass rested hard on the concrete flower bed that protected a few weeds dispersed by wind and fate. The bearded one had to shift his decrepit hips to avoid sores. Graffiti and pain were painful distractions that Oggy wrestled against, mentally pinning one against the other and grappling alternatively with reality and an image of symbolic warfare. "Famuz G." was one such purple paint tag. "BLK BOYZ RULE" was another. "Vato Street Brothers...V.S.B." Nowhere was the wingnut nation represented, lacking literacy and publicity department of the aforementioned...and this omission bothered Oggy because it touched on a larger problem within a problem, a hidden problem, one of education strata enjoyed by the dispossessed, not merely defacing property but a subclass of undesirables who were voiceless.
Monday, August 5, 2013
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