1/

You might think us crazy to shoot
pictures of what surrounds and flattens
year upon year: a good old lazy way
to look and view the when and why
of how life goes around and comes around
to kiss or hug or pass you by or bite you
in the ass. As she makes her rounds,
time squares life away. If in a snapshot
you spot a box of unsorted socks that long
to match, you know how they need to dance.

2/

Everything takes place in the background,
the field, where worlds recede, where seams
rolled inside-out sweat imagery. Like shirts,
like skirts, like tents and napkin pen-and-ink
ideas. the sketchy look of time takes shape
as form, and all forms die. We shoot to save.

Al Young

© 2008 Al Young

This entry was posted on Thursday, November 13th, 2008 at 9:15 am and is filed under Poems and Lyrics. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.