Cairo in Indigo: the Photo Poem (without the Photos)

Hipstamatic makes no sense.
In the idle grip of suspended motion—
endless traffic in stasis,
prosthetic limbs scratching against car doors—
what’s the use of predefined filters pretending to be the aesthetic technology of not much earlier times?
You want to play with the beasts.
Soul splashed on the asphalt, to dream your own dreams,
imagination feeding like ruminants.

Continue reading

Fake Painting: An iPhoneography Poem

The Angel (Your picture)

wpid-photo2-2013-03-8-17-46.jpg

Sleep now, as though you’d never in your life occupied a frame,
As though your hands had never set even this picture in a frame,
As though they had not arranged cuttings that float

Continue reading