Wednesday, September 17, 2008


papers shuffle themselves

typed words fumble their fingers
leave strange phrases

pens bow their tips to the page
reverent vessels leaking ink

edges tear from notebooks
right along the dotted line
(neatly neatly)

staples remove themselves
freed from the fold

typewriters click jokes into the air
laughing at themselves

word processors choose their own font
something stylish, they say


paisley said...

i keep so many blogs in my reader,, there are times i feel like i am "grading papers"... i want to say something personal and meaningful each and every time,, want to feel like me reading makes a difference.. i guess...

holly said...

It does...

Cynthia said...

love this poem, I'm obsessed with
all writing materials, esp. enjoy:
pen bows their tips to the page,
reverent vessels leaking ink.

holly said...

thank you Cynthia...yes, I enjoy thinking of them as alive, esp since I spend so many hours a day with those materials