Friday, September 08, 2006

the dishonesty of photographs

mostly they lie in black, in white
in midday lighting -- outdoors
with hands on hips
and tilted jaw lines

like a highlighter through philosophic text

we are poised, laughing
dancing, with pursed lips

arms uncrossed

caught youthful, and unaware
intelligence and grace flexed in
the bicep of 24 years old

the rest is,

unframed –

there are only so many photo albums.

3 Comments:

At 10:42 AM, Blogger denielle said...

totally wishing you were here this year! when i was driving out of wells i was thinking of how well your poems stick. y'know. like i'll see something and i'll be like, "oh that reminds me of that poem heather wrote."
but anyways, hope all's well. i'll be checking your blog religiously (no pressure tho . . .)

 
At 6:06 PM, Anonymous Laura said...

This poem is awesome! It's funny how we always hide all of those 'unspeakable' photographs. It has given me the idea to find some of my worst pictures and put them on my blog. It will be hard...but probably good for me.

 
At 1:21 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

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