Monday, 13 January 2020

13. Collision

I remove the slender instrument
from its elegant box
so glossy, so white
so flagrantly expensive
I feel its weight and sense its power
as I cradle it in my hands
I'm excited at first by its magic
as it transforms my scrawls into tidy text 
excited by the endless choices 
font size, thickness, color, brightness

I play and play until I feel a frown coming 
something is missing from these perfect markings
something is missing from this gleaming glass

it turns out I need the imperfections
I need the messy letters
I need my barely legible scrawl 
to think straight, just to think straight 

and so I slink back to the store
return the frivolous instrument
and pick up a boring ballpoint

Much more appreciative now 
of all the left-handed smudges 
that spill upon my dreams.