walking on the far-side of a photograph

sometime i walk on the far-side of a photograph
when the emotional tones scratch my empathy

i bow my head and flee life a frightened child
unable to peer into the heart of life-revealed
covering-up my blinded eyes

i sink into some green out-of-doors
into a cavern to dismember the human scene
then run to a lighter ground or floor for some escape
where bar-b-ques won't taste like blood
nor see bleedings as if from innocent harm

so i hang my emotional notes on a speeding car
pretending i am some mighty superman
fleeing to the gotham press of a more accepting time
reporting deeds as if free from shock



Humanity was before humans were.

We all pass our titles on to someone else.

There's always someone smarter than you in some way.