The Dark Angels are a come and go crew. They create then disappear like street art. Their works exist in fragments, particles that float, dust motes that spin before the wind that blows them to faraway places. They are individuals that work as one. Deep as oceans, as impenetrable as the night. Art urchins and poets, they dissolve before they form. They are the Dark Angels, they are discharge. They are a bloody mouthful.

Friday, 25 November 2011

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trash.poetry

trashpoetry

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8 comments:

A.Decker said...

Nice! Great composition. Love it.

Mersault said...

BEAUTIFUL!!!!

jbkrost said...

Yeah!
Its interesting to see what catches one's eye, with camera in hand...
fine work

CHM said...

Love it Tic Tac!!!!

Ruela said...

Excelent!!!!!

TICTAC said...

Thank you very much to all!
cheers :-)

Aaron Held said...

Lots of American each day make trash poetry, in fact i got to take out bags of it every week ahah nice work TicTac :)

TICTAC said...

lol! have you considered to make recycling poetry? tons over here...nice to hear from you! cheers