I Am The Camera Man

I envy the people that will live 10,000 years from now
because technology is so new.
They will have the opportunity to see live footage
of ancient scenes
millenniums old
trapped in their original form
still breathing
still fresh

But me
little old me
all i can do is imagine.
I Fumble through the books i read
each one with a unique take
on the same topic
like goddamn film critics
and like a senile man with Parkinson’s and Jenga blocks
i try to piece together the past.
i try to believe the things i’m told

I envy the people that will live 10,000 years from now
because I would like to plunge into my couch and travel
and float away
and age
more than a lifetime
and see those people
who died so long ago
their bones have soaked
back into the soil
and all that’s left is a myth
and see the lands
so new they’re not yet called earth
not the earth we know

and i would cry
watching Mozart compose in real time
his little hands like humming birds
flashing over the keys
mesmerizing the piano
his open eyes
no sign of effort
an understanding
that we don’t understand

a proud laugh combusts
as Lincoln bows his head
the sun in a solar system of men
huddled around him
he drops a quick and steady bomb
the Gettysburg Address
in 3 minutes finished
in 3 minutes the world shifted
spoken for first time
to see the moods erupt in his face
his eyebrows like caterpillars
slow and restless
the wrinkles compress in his forehead
eyes stormy and transforming
complementing the trills of his voice
connected to each point
as it passes
the speech: five copies of words
the moment: disintegrated

I envy the people that will live 10,000 years from now
because they will not have to surmise.
When they’re fathers or teachers tell them about Beatles
they won’t have to wonder what their performances looked like
they’ll have a copy
of every last dying note
saved in time
the four London composers
from 10, 000 years ago
the four wheels
the moving vehicle
their funny black hair – cut to the same length above their eyes, shifting
their uniforms – matching and military and button up wool
their smiles – uncontrollable
tears on the lips of the girls
agony in the stands
the cry of rock and roll
louder than the band

The future will not have to guess what 2010 looked like:
a confused civilization
caught halfway
between nature and plastic
authenticity and smut
color and emptiness
suicide and remorse
generosity and greed
they will have our files
by the millions
documentaries and Hollywood
and they will look on in awe
because they will be able to see us
in a way that we never could
dangling from an off-green autumn tree
our toes touching just enough to breath
somewhere between
rotting and growing

the world has a way of balancing itself out though.
the way things are moving
we are losing our humanness,
a little more missing each year,
sucked up into a reel
preserved in time
so that by the year 12,000
when even the fucking sky is made out of steel
and nuts and bolts, and right angles
and marginal revenue profits
and smoke and headaches,
and the sun stuffy and burning
there will be no need to create.
that will be the Truth.
there will be no need to film.
there will be nothing left to capture.

but we will be compensated
with our universe of precious glimpses
unabridged and complete
a volume of memories
spinning fiercely
sweet nostalgia wicking off the side
seven oceans storming and swaying with the past
smiling back
shot in the face
the winds carried by a narrative
rushing through our eyelids
spools humming
shadows pouring
sparks burning the skin
turning into stars
light beginning again
our eyes will not blink anymore
and in this way we will hold on
hold on to the days
we imagined

like a moment hanging inside a camera
we will remain