As regular readers will know, I’ve been sporadically documenting the bitterly cryptic comments pasted on walls around Brooklyn by an unknown street artist or artists. It’s been a long time since I found a new one – my last update was nearly a year ago, which in pandemic time equates to either 118 years or 2 days.

Then, on Thanksgiving morning, I happened upon this. Too tagged and tattered to read, it invites multiple interpretations:

Sometimes, you just need to burp the horse.

Sometimes, you just need to burn the house.

Sometimes, you just need to bury the birdseed.

Sometimes, you just need to bump the bruises.