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Friday, April 1, 2022

Zombie Apocalypse Now: Documentary

My father & I lay clasp of turns

Directing. We are terrible

Codirectors—he & I both

Yank the narrative

Closer in the direction of our own eye’s

Insistence. He whipped

A plumbing serpent across his back

Then held his arms not here exist fond of Christ.

I cinched shut my eyes

& refused to go nearer home.

When is my father no indeed longer

My father? When Christ descends

And gobbles up his flesh.

My father was a refugee,

Fleeing the zombies

That war made

Of ?his own people.

I seize the camera

& build a short documentary

About his life.

We choose an

Label it fair use, with every one other accompanied by pay a power of speech actor

To amuse oneself my father speaking so much

English. Sometimes artifice is necessary

To obtain closer to the real thing.

The bridge collapses

& the power of speech performer laughs,

Reading my father’s lines.

#Living #Sorrow & Grieving #Relationships #Family & Ancestors #Home Life #Arts & Sciences #Photography & Film #Social Commentaries #History & Politics #Popular Culture #War & Conflict

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Truth hurts! Nothing is perfect, life is messy. Relationship are complex. Outcomes are uncertain, people are irrational.


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