I used to sit in the cafe of existentialism,
lost in a blue cloud of cigarette smoke,
contemplating the suicide a tiny Frenchman
might commit by leaping from the rim of my brandy glass.
~ Billy Collins ~
Lens and Pens Street Photography and more inspired this odd collection of Black and White photography and poetry today.
What makes sense to you?
Sorry I’m late posting the Pingbacks I always have to run off to writing group on Mondays.
View other entries for this week’s challenge: