One (from Shakespearean Sonnets)
All things important outside the frame
are not. You see we all dwell
in a movie that is the same
and cannot, will not ever excel
whatever it is the camera's on.
We are never here, but always there
where the influx has finally gone
inside the fear and tenor where
smoke and dust and trust are left.
Your world is a world of tinted glass.
Even the photography is bereft
of what for a moment really was
the temperature where we will meet
that judgment that is all too sweet.
[13 more here, via wood s lot]