There are murals in
California.  Exhaust stained,
gang-signed walls treated
with soap and thinner, creating
something new inside the
negative space.  As he is
telling me this, a design
grows out of his
thumbnail, the paint
from the chalkboard
table giving way to cheap
polyurethane.  Satisfied,
he rises, exits the coffee shop,
and finds another mess
to make sense of.