Poetry in Chalk

Every so often my impulse-purchase cameraphone justifies its presence in my life. For example, it occasionally allows me to preserve for posterity a variety of urban text pieces ranging from the plainspoken ("Ricardo is a Pimp") to the inscrutable ("Kyle Does Not Equal Poopy"), which I am then able to share with you. Today, I present three mysterious and wonderful recent additions to the collection.

First, a sad commentary on how childhood summertime in America has changed completely:



Followed by a gently polemical suggestion to a nation divided:



... and finally, that most poignant and eternal question: