On:

Roger Camp is the author of three photography books including the award-winning Butterflies in Flight (Thames & Hudson, 2002) and Heat (Charta, Milano, 2008). His work has appeared in numerous journals including The New England Review, New York Quarterly, and the Vassar Review. He previously worked as a reference librarianContinue Reading

On:

there is no greater image of  desperation  than the dog that runs back for  the bone  for the twentieth time  on a lonely afternoon.  it returns home to its master  lays down at his feet  sets down the emblem of his  dedication  and the master laughs,  accepts his gift half-heartedlyContinue Reading

On:

My cat brings me gravel. He picks it up from the drive just outside and brings it to the kitchen. His catches tinkle as they are dropped on the tiles and my cat looks up and smiles. He is pleased to offer me such a grand present, I can tell.Continue Reading

On:

Roger Camp is the author of three photography books including the award-winning Butterflies in Flight (Thames & Hudson, 2002) and Heat (Charta, Milano, 2008). His work has appeared in numerous journals including The New England Review, New York Quarterly, and the Vassar Review. He previously worked as a reference librarianContinue Reading

On:

You say it’s just a phony menace, these alligators on the banks of the backyard stream, slowly warming their somber blood in late afternoon sunshine We are as safe as if they were butterflies or deer or even children splashing in that slow curdle of water. There is enough fishContinue Reading

On:

I have nobs on my narrow snout I have over one hundred teeth   I am the world’s largest reptile I am the closest living relative to the dinosaurs   I like to eat fish, small mammals, and frogs I like to swim, crawl, and run   I live inContinue Reading

On:

Roger Camp is the author of three photography books including the award-winning Butterflies in Flight (Thames & Hudson, 2002) and Heat (Charta, Milano, 2008). His work has appeared in numerous journals including The New England Review, New York Quarterly, and the Vassar Review. He previously worked as a reference librarianContinue Reading

On:

I cannot stand your velvet cloak that holds the dark in. Unprepared, I stayed   with you until the wind spoke of mothers and I remembered my own smell. Every day I checked the solidness   of skin, the speed of blood, the shape of eyes against the rain. IContinue Reading

On:

The golden brown dog, Lies on the golden brown floor, Not just blending in, But becoming one, With the transitional path, Of the comings and goings, Of civilization around him.   He takes comfort, In the close proximity, Of a black bicycle, And the liberation, Its wheels might bring, ToContinue Reading

On:

Still, still hidden Behind old shirts and pants Like an inflated sock Hung on a slanting coat hanger With a prophecy stuck in its throat Probably too dark or ominous To yaw, even to breathe No one knows when or how It will fly out of the closet, and callContinue Reading