I hear the click clack click of the camera eye 

bent by the rays of the summer sun 

fall sick and quietly 

drown in the cracks in the cracks of her windshield 

there is a wind that blows through the window 

slip fall down and bump my little head 

but there is no sympathy 



Shutterbug you are the end, you are the writing on the wall 



I hung around with you in your bedroom 

counting all your finger and your toes 

to pose for photographs 

keeping the time with the flicks of your fingers 

we fell asleep too tired to remember 

all the things we did that afternoon 

to make my summer head 

float like a bug on the skin of the water 



Shutterbug I could not wait to get my fingers on you 

Shutterbug you are the end you are the writing on the wall