I DON'T LOOK AT PHOTOGRAPHS so there's no way I'll be inspired to write of my family or of an unknown day in an unknown person's life no way to suggest the thought of how art keeps snapping away at time I don't look at sundown the inexhaustible western fires in which new time keeps appearing from the burning of what went away ash of desire past feeding the seeds of pleasures setting down fresh roots if you catch me looking for my photographs or remembering former skys don't call me a liar for what I first said I'm looking for not looking at I'm counting the growth of memory from what was once today