“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.

narrative poem written on 04-08-2013 by: on mattkane.com
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