KVH/.

Underwood Five

I lift the typewriter,

from the top shelf

my arms shaking

from the weight.

I blow off a blanket

of dust and it whispers,

“Make me new again.”

I feed the typewriter a single

white sheet of paper.

the carriage returns

like a doorbell ringing

The letter “o”

sticks.

The keys chattering

self-consciously,

“D n’t f rget me,

L ve me as I am.”