Cans of Blood

Here -

Where...thick suited men drink bottled park bench liquid breakfast..

Where...bitter, blameless minds enter watered down invisible strips of shadow..

Where...pavement paper is hidden behind spirals of broken bicycle..

Where...modern memory is glazed with empty cans of blood..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication


Documentary Fiction Photography 
Steve Coel