The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

April 14, 2002


   the camera struggled to rise, it couldn't
   the images leaked out, the shutter button released its last
   the poor and tiny screen lights and lights,
   blind eye of the lens reaching out -
   here, look at this, but you will never own it
   those clouds, those lizard-eyes, that spider, this umbilical
   cut at last, untethered real floating off and on -
   i'm part of the blindness, i hold the camera like a baby
   the lens floats in and out, i can hear the breathing

   'the dying camera'

   you may have
   you may have the last images, they crawl, they remain
   in funeral, the card holding on, desperately
   the image, the image, the image
   silent, submerged


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