jonesamericana:


			
			The turkeys mill about, oblivious to the two small boys among them.
			
			
			A larger man stands outside their number.  He holds a silver and black camera to his face with one hand, the other waves above his head, commanding the boys’ attention, directing their youthful smiles forward.  He motions left and right, manipulating the boys’ location in his viewfinder with nothing more than a casual flick of the wrist.
			
			
			The turkeys are not bothered by any of this.  They hunt and peck and search for food.  They warble and gobble and communicate with their own kind.  They ruffle their feathers and scratch the earthy scrabble beneath.  Soon, they will be called to another pen, covered, crowded and dank, and then ushered into one more dark room where the floor is hard, a room controlled by the large men.
			
			
			The camera clicks, the boys and their impish grins gleam brightly beneath their cowboy hats.  The man with the camera smiles and walks away.  The turkeys migrate to another part of the pen.  The boys stand alone for a second, unsure of their next heading.  One follows the man with the camera, the other heads towards the flock of turkeys.
			
			you may reach marty at mlong[at]saepio.com
	
	 
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jonesamericana:

The turkeys mill about, oblivious to the two small boys among them.

A larger man stands outside their number. He holds a silver and black camera to his face with one hand, the other waves above his head, commanding the boys’ attention, directing their youthful smiles forward. He motions left and right, manipulating the boys’ location in his viewfinder with nothing more than a casual flick of the wrist.

The turkeys are not bothered by any of this. They hunt and peck and search for food. They warble and gobble and communicate with their own kind. They ruffle their feathers and scratch the earthy scrabble beneath. Soon, they will be called to another pen, covered, crowded and dank, and then ushered into one more dark room where the floor is hard, a room controlled by the large men.

The camera clicks, the boys and their impish grins gleam brightly beneath their cowboy hats. The man with the camera smiles and walks away. The turkeys migrate to another part of the pen. The boys stand alone for a second, unsure of their next heading. One follows the man with the camera, the other heads towards the flock of turkeys.

you may reach marty at mlong[at]saepio.com

27 March 2009 ·

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  1. iancahill reblogged this from jonesamericana
  2. jonesamericana posted this

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