I want to date a photographer

30 May

————-

I want to date a photographer

 

I want to date a photographer

the smell of a closet turned into a darkroom

catechol, acetic acid

in the morning

a filterless cigarette

waking up in light

in the sanctuary of another artist

another who drifts like a rhythmic martyr

or an aging bicycle on an icy road

pinched flats

I’ll kiss her

just as she pictured it

with corruption just like a limerick on my lips

and there will be a restful slumber

that lasts a day and a full night’s appetite

and then when we stretch

waking up in light

again

she’ll take a photograph

while I’m still in bed

and I’ll pretend

amongst the covers

that I’m anything but happy

in the bliss of undeveloped prints

stuck for a time to find myself exposed

in the winking coffin of her lens

yawning for her smile like a protective dog

hair resembling an eureka moment   

waking up in light

realizing that dust has gathered

and the walls, they have become  

a shoebox full of photographs

like a treasure chest of glass blown into bodies

all fettered by an invisible force

indoctrinated by good intentions

and each left to sleep alone

———–

(for an uninterested, talented peer)

——-

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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings


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