Wednesday, December 16, 2009

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”


The keys chattering


“D n’t f rget me,

L ve me as I am.”