Roger Camp is the author of three photography books including the award winningButterflies in Flight,Thames & Hudson, 2002. His documentary photography has been awarded the Europe’s prestigious Leica Medal of Excellence and published in numerous journals includingThe New England Review, New York Quarterly,andNorth American Review.
Even in a room filled with pain, we’re skeptical when the nurse calls the well-dressed man first, or the teen with a black eye & cocaine on her dress. We’re sick of hate speech, of judging each other read about Taylor Swift & weight loss, put out by the runner who keeps asking us to feel the bone poking out of her foot, & the paranoid benzodiazepine addict who picked at every pimple on his scarred face, & counts coins & pomegranate seeds, then buries them in the yard. Out the window, a nurse yells at a janitor selling weed, & a policeman brags about how Viagra transforms his balls. Somebody turns up the volume on her headphones. Suddenly Instagram crams the space with cat memes, coffee enema benefits, anti-aging ads & Kim Kardashian’s butt sculpting recommendations. But we can’t quit thinking about snake bites, the latest flu & flesh wounds, the tendons on the surgeon’s latex hands, dialysis machines, brains in jars, medical record numbers & color-coded diagrams of the body. When the suicidal lady dressed in skimpy underwear & a bra who tried to cut her wrist off is pushed in, all four limbs chained to a gurney, praying for us to kill her, we nearly forget our own afflictions. The attendants can’t find the right sedative to halt her thrashing. Fuck God, her voice rattles between Netflix & YouTube scenes. & we power off our screens until the inflected quiet stitches our bodies with isolation, a darkness never redeemed by constellations or an owl’s eyes, as emergencies blur her blood with the color of new need.
