Diane Arbus, New York- Nicole Cooley

[mysneaker.livejournal.com]

Central Park, 1971

Between the trees I watch a woman
holding a monkey in a snowsuit,
cradling its body like a child.
I am photographing people

with the objects they love.
I photograph myself with my camera.
I am studying attatchment.
I print each image again and again.

On a blackboard beside my bed
I list objects to photograph: a pet
crematorium, a condemned hotel,

the ocean liner from my dream-
a world of women, gleaming and whit
and stacked in layers like a weddin cake

where we drink and smoke and play
cards all night. No men are watching.
The white ship is on fire and sinking

slowing and I can photography anything
I want. Because there is no hope
I can photograph anything.

All night I ride the train under the city,
studying the faces of the passengers.
I want to startle them from sleep.

I want to take them home with me
to lie in my bed beside me as I grow
smaller. No one is watching.

I want someone to cross over with me
as light stains the film silver and the image
turns dark, unrecognizable.ˇ

Comments

[agata.livejournal.com]

I love this!
Might I add... that I also love Diane Arbus' work.