Avatar Review

George Bishop


I never met him
while he was alive
but sometimes he’ll
ooze out of photos
like a lost book, a nexus
between the voice I invented
for him and the words
he hid in cameras.

Black and white.
They either keep developing
the grandfather I never knew
or reach into the negatives
no one saved. He moved
through a lens like an extra,
his head holding that

something more

angle that never seems
to stop reading me --
my silent world of shutters
and one dark eye.

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