What is there in a laugh that time avoids to know?
Look at all the people out there playing
Running from the past
“Can I make my bus,” he cries, “or will I see the show?”
We surround ourselves with time
Building with the laughter a doorway to the mind
Now, you can call that irony, or juxtaposition, and maybe the person who painted it there was thinking that way too.
But…
Cool
On a white-washed sheet of rough plywood
In a back alley
Beside railroad tracks
On the Vancouver waterfront.
Pix to Words 