La Plegaria Del Paparazzo

May my pulse not shake in the final moment,
May the lens capture every detail of the two lovers;
May we never run out of the sweet elixir of hypocrisy,
May our daily flash chase away the darkness.

God, provider of stolen photos,

Holy patron of the paparazzi,
Make her come out the right door,
Let her look this way before she hops in the cab.

You who created tabloid trash,
Lord, bless this zoom lens.
Grant me the instinct, the audacity, and the holy patience
That I live by.