remnants

Walking up 11th Street in Park Slope, I had a Baccio Martini from Bar Toto on my mind. I glance over to a collection of discarded items on a three-foot high concrete block. At first glance, I thought it to simply be a collection of used books- as it is commonplace to leave items out on your stoop (that you no longer desire to keep). One man's junk...they ring.

But this is something more. There is no stoop here. This is the carcass of a moderately consumed roast chicken. Three beer bottles in brown bags. Zagat's Best of NYC, a book on Golden Movies- another on why a son needs a mother. What happened here?