John Lusardi – Camera Land

Camera Land

We are all celebrities in camera land! In hoods and hard hats, behind the wheel or barrowing “Click”

Beneath the scaffolding. Picking up dog ends in the park, running after midnight in the shadows; “Click”

Creeping in the small hours, pursuing the bus, taxi calling in the black fog – stabbed in the red mist, “Click”

Its 2am I’m digging in the garden, there’s suspicion spilling from a blind window! “Its potatoes”!“Click”

Tilting on the brink, canned in cider or inside her, balanced on a tall pole, or tent pole.. flashed at 34MPH “Click Flash Click”

Sunday lunch in the well, watched damp gutter, observed from Sardis block “Click”

Mooning the lens, burning the protective glass, pictures of my arse, Should please;“Click”

The smile will be costly, looks like a ghost, on fire in the corner, on top of my lost wife with a knife, “Click”

Dripping in credit land, folding paper planes from county court judgements, “Click”

Linking with a landlord between the empty casks, up the back around the back, no one sees, “Click” What could possibly go wrong if you’re behaving in camera land. Never mind!“Click”

Dogging for the joy of it, click! It’s a big big tit, bending over the fence, joy to the vicar in the bell tower of dreams and dripping in unzipping trousers, “Click”

A man holds his breath on the bonnet on the avenger in green, and sinks to her knees under his knees “Click

Hands are moving quicker that a clock in the last days of the night, yes that’s him looks like a purvey, and bandy three legged “Click”

Holding lighter fuel, and sniffing, tipping it into the wallet the queen is watching, on fire but, always smiles “Click”

Just a little disc blue and with numbers, a beer mat would do in desperate times “Click”

Guilty, or guilty innocence, it’s priced the same on film, stacking up the odds of being clicked

Oakley’s are dark, I know myself. Seeking a point carrier my wife doesn’t drive – anymore.     


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