I went out at the weekend and I made a special point of being extra observant, especially whilst walking under railway bridges or using a public convenience. Despite all this I didn’t see a single graffiti penis. I was starting to think that this blog would be a short-lived adventure.
Then, this morning, while walking to the train station, I happened across my second south London pavement phallus on the leafy and not especially mean streets of Norbury.
I only noticed the cock when I was right on top of it, which sounds like something an actress might say to a bishop in a bawdy 70s sitcom.
Blink and you’d miss it! So, here’s a close up:
To the casualist, this might not even look like a penis, since the artist hasn’t even bothered to connect the testicles to the shaft. Plain white aerosol rendered solid form against the brooding tarmacadam, there is a lack of intimate detail to be found in this impressionist piece. However, upon closer observance, the outline of a bellend is all too obvious. All of a sudden this simple piece of art screams “I am a penis”.