none of my friends are in any of the photos I took
            on middle school field trips
    or at least in the ones of landmarks that I decided
                                  the world needed to remember
for every one photo of my friends
      on the bus    there were ten frozen ghost
     towns              perfectly preserved pieces of history
 like my friends would have     devalued a
                                                                                 groundbreaking
              disposable camera photo
                                                                 of Quincy Market

        a few years ago I took a video
                      in a field in Tregynon on a      stunning
                      day in late May
and talked through the whole thing
               about the delicate way the wind moved only some
                of the grass at a time                      the way walking
               towards a tree made every tiny part of it shift
              a different amount in a different
                direction              an infant big bang before
                    my eyes                 the way any slight movement transformed
                    my place in the universe            the way
              I would spend my life trying
              to show this two–dimensional zion
                   to anyone else                                       I am mad
at myself when I watch it back                          the way I willed
                  a masterpiece into                          existence
                                                                          and ruined it