Home Movies

The lie that I call my childhood
Unfolded before me in 8mm glory
Sputtering along on the sprockets
Wrapped in an eerie rhythmic silence
Images flicker by across the little screen
Frame after frame of irresponsible innocence
The safety that the old shoe box held
has been betrayed
The shelf in the deepest corner
Of my father’s closet
Holds nothing now except for dust
Thick gray dust
The 8mm home movies defy the video age
Much the same way as they defy
My memories of youth

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