Urban Diary

A comic despairs

I know, Charlie Chaps, I know. We, humans, can’t stop screwing up. Still caught up in a mad gold rush, behaving as if we were in a circus (but with the clowns in charge), and lording it over nature like a great dictator who doesn’t know or doesn’t want to know the end may well be nigh.

Your tramp witnesses it all from your mural on Pitfield Street while city lights cast long golden-tinted shadows on leaf-covered pavements.

Modern times needn’t have turned out like this.

Cuban, Immigrant, and Londoner, on sale now.

You can buy me a coffee here.