slow dry type

my silhouette creeps
at the crease
of my dearest page;
a flipping empire
crinkling corners like
crepe.

brusque lines break
crackling brittle
flecks
as abrupt ink smears
beyond punctuated
clots.

a mourning for
the mechanical.
an inky ribbon
of wet carbon.
pages laid in a piss trough
on opening day of baseball.
or an epson printer
refusing to print
because the manufacturer
sells its own cartriages.

written on 04/09/2013 by: Matt Kane