Home > Poetry > a writer’s love letter

a writer’s love letter

 

The simplest way to know me is to read. To follow along as best you can, guessing at the metaphors, ignoring the misplaced commas. I am nothing more than a pretty cover and sloppy grammar. My font is questionable, a bastardized Comic Sans, eleven points so that you are forced to strain your eyes. I’ve been designed to distract you from all other realities, if you finger through the pages, looking for escape.

Mind the way you turn from one moment to the next. My title page has been removed, leaving a ragged reminder. My spine is worn out. Serviceable, though well-used. Occasionally, when opened, there is a still a slight creak.

My pages are creased, bent to hold a place that no longer matters. I have notes scribbled in the margins, some in pen and permanent. Others scrawled in nearly illegible pencil, halfway hidden by smudges and time. Do not look for page numbers or conventional order. At best, I am playing at Faulkner. At worst, I am a line from Tennessee Williams. My enjambments are deliberate. My stage directions are dangerous. Mind the bear, always pursuant.

Keep in mind that my verbs don’t always match my subject. I am tense in any case. I do not always stick to English. I’m strung out on rolled Rs and three different words for love, all equally difficult to pronounce. Translate only as much as you dare. Conjugation optional, but preferred. Just don’t expect poetry in any form. I cannot be constrained by a syllable count or a rhyme scheme. Do not look for sonnets, here. My lack of couplets will disappoint you.

Whatever you do, do not read the dedication. Do not look for your own name. You will not find it. I’ve already hidden you on every page, even the ones I have not written yet.

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Categories: Poetry
  1. Jessica
    December 13, 2012 at 11:55 am

    ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

    You are not a bastardized Comic Sans, my dear. You are Freestyle Script. 😉

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