Art Has Hands Eyes Its Own
for Robert West

I thought all he was, was an awful poet
had no idea that even while he read
what disappointed so
he photographed so well
look through, look back
to find, that even while
I detested what he read
he was registering wonderfully,
resonating as it were
upon the camera’s eye
when its shutter opened and closed
when it clicked open, snapped shut
camera loving him all while I hated him
no one it seems
is good for nothing


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
9:37 p.m. 28/10/07