Photograph them,

Take them in

like colored black and white

pretty ditty photographs

Taken by the man.

Man

Stands

Man stands tall behind that lens.

Thousand dollars to support his own dreams.

Saves his dimes and nickels

Tickles the filter buttons

Wrestles with his mind

Over what to do next

Landscapes,

Boudoir,

Painted pretty on an abandoned kitchen floor.

He’s gonna shoot them.

He’s gonna frame them.

He’s going.

Going.

Gone.

One day he won’t know me anymore

He’s blessed.

Camera’s got him sneezing

It’s all he breathes in,

But it’s not toxic,

It’s cause he wants it,

More talent than a that Campbell soup kid.

He’s got that talent,

Fingers clicking like the black mass in the red room.

Headshots like medicine.

Photos for the medicine man,

He’s going to make you stand out if you stand with him.

Liquid fire

Red and yellow tires.

He’s the juice.

We call him “Juice.”