TearTheWholeThingDown

Nobody asked the wall what it wanted to hold. They glued the posters up anyway, layer on layer, the show that already happened, the band that already broke up, the rent that already came due. Somebody scrawled a word across all of it and the word was rude and the word was true. Peel it back and the city tells you its real history in torn corners and dried paste. The official version is downtown behind glass. The honest one is here, at hip height, where the hands could reach. Tear the whole thing down. Something louder grows in the gap.