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