The critics, whose strong suit is oblivion
they see it all
when the lights dim, inevitably, every week,
accounts are rendered of crimes of passion, treasure maps,
falling crosses and rock and roll history,
take care not to touch anything three-dimensional.
Oh to spare one's eyes, one day, from confessions,
to murder with a camera one's most horrendous fear.
Peep, Peeping Tom
It is good in the dark.
No one carries footlights on his back.