I like the detritus that shows up on the streets and sidewalks in a random way.
I like that the bottle has been crushed by a car wheel (I presume).
I like that the cardboard, ribbed, punched and patterned to be folded into containment, lies flattened and glued to the pavement by the rain.
I like that planning, purpose and organization have succumbed to decay and random distribution.
I like that in their detrital abstraction they are works of art, bristling with form and texture, waiting admiration.