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Poetry

Correcting the Lens, a poem by Hector Wood

Hector Wood

i.
My great-great-grandfather invented photography
Except not really
It was more a silver, round, telescope

In the process he blew off his hand

Estonians are not known to flinch
Nor gaze askance at smouldering flesh
But it’s a shame he never got that patent

It was also a shame about the depression going on
Which struck his world like lightning

No one wanted to buy a camera
Nor take pictures of bread-queues
Middle-class hookers
Or chemically-burnt hands

What a way to end it Bernhard Schmidt
Died in poverty 1935

 

ii.
Bold capturer of divine light
Steadfast in alchemations
Clasping at the soft muslin metaphysic
Of which chameleons dream
How fast the effervescent light
Can escape beyond human eyes
How fast a life is spent on earth
One flash
and then gone.

 

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