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I don’t write poems in a flush of enthusiasm. I start writing because there’s something in my gut that I want to express, but I don’t know how. So I write, and I set aside, and some day months along I come back to those inarticulate gropings and see something in them, and start rewriting, amending, polishing.
This is one of those long-buried beginnings, resurrected.
my printer went to sleep
it dozes off, when it’s not
making black marks on white paper
it has to keep itself busy
when it’s not, it turns its neurons off
grabs a nap, goes dormant
puts its digital processes on hold
to save energy
Tags: negative images, printers, computer processes