Photographs Poem by Ballerina With Fins

I say photographs should be destroyed.
landscapes made to look like the Land of Dreams
only there should be one not a dozen
or a million or a billion.
made to advertise on calendered sheets of beaming
gloss and years of promised happiness.
Faces made to look happy only the smiles
are fixated and false and plastic
or filled with stubborn hatred and
primary insolence.

But then we burn them and we say
we have nothing else, not even a merest
smidgen of a lost memory.