you frame the hokey bokeh
and you turn the lens around
that what photog’s about.


they visit you, too, don’t they?
these ghastly tremors.
unannounced, threading through
the tendons and tendrils of our
fragile frames.

though oft undetected
in the gait of our steps
still, we are rattled to our cores.
a melancholic mélange, of sorts.

how often do i want to feel nothing?
how often, do i wonder?