Photographer banter gets
what it gets. If you can't turn a phrase with your face
it's not something you learn
out of the blue
phone calls are beautiful things
when there's nothing pressing
harder than,
"now I want you to,"
tune it out.
"but I'm here all of the time
I don't understand"
because you clearly have not fallen head over heels before
yourself, trapped to reels
and reels
and reels
of tape.
Gone through the little door and
down the staircase
to dreamland where everything is as real on its face
as you deign to flow
out of your skin.
"Now this... now that... more of the first... okay, now the second again."
I don't care where it goes. I don't care
whose eyes it greets
as long as I am laying,
camera gone,
in high gloss,
splashed across the floor
in 8" by tens
forty prints at my feet.
