Let There Be Flesh

The season of the flesh is upon us.

Construction workers line the streets, sometimes 2 men deep. They see you coming and they watch you go. The body as object and on display. Pale winter skin is normalized, except for the few that have planned for this exhibition during February’s cold dreary days.

White collars, pink collars and gold collars escape their climate controlled cubicles and corner offices for semi-fresh air.

Powersuits clash with white nike sneakers. The power walkers pump their arms in caloric burning determination. The herds descend the sidewalks once barren except for those on errands.

The hotdog/sauerkraut breeze mixes nicely with the exhaust of overworked buses, construction monstrosities and huddled smokers in shadowed corners.

The season of the flesh is upon us.

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