i want a typewriter
because i think that having
a bulky, automatic, non-delete-able
printer sort of thing
would make me sit down
and write more.
if, perhaps, i could trade my
for something that i'll never know
if it'll break, it would make me
value my temporary marks,
clicking one letter at a time,
even though there's twenty-four hours a day,
it doesn't seem like enough time to
figure in all of the
minutes and half-hours
doing things i only half-want to do.
so i stall,
so much time spent with waiting for words to come.
when i say i'm in my head i really am.
i'm struggling to keep my feet on the ground,
i can't feel reality anymore.
i need a typewriter to weigh me down,
make sweat between my thighs as i
one line at a time.
i don't exactly know where i am. maybe i'm dehydrated. i wish life is the way that i imagine it.