Wait! Jog your
pencil in place,
let breathing race ahead of
a rebellion of words. sagging
Erasers
nibbled on, wrinkled papers,
and shot glasses filled with brandy as
red as the regret in a man's eyes.
Broken
typewriters abused by pencils.
The
collection of clip notes lost inside
Ziploc bags never to be used.
Are you
sad? Ripped with heaven,
snatched with hell. Stripped bare from
a sharpener’s gaze or losing
your way
on pages.
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