SERENADE


My typewriter has
latent
tendencies

slides its scaly,
rippling flesh beneath
cold fingers

gets hot
and flustered

runs and chortles
its tight, dry pulse

chokes
and spits
glorious words

to me

when I am
awash and sorry

greedy

my typewriter
sings

and holds

my hands

           -- David Radavich
 
 


 

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