An Original Tale

Here's the proof and a ream of fresh minutes
A walk to the font, sans seraph.
(It's summertime.)

Water marks bleeding over the page
A margin of color sequence in coffee tones.
(It's routine.)

Attention, widows! Orphans, find your places.
A breve of a smile pronounces the blessing.
(And random acts of typos.)

A job around the square, get crop marks trimmed
And the deckle edge flattened.
(Exercise measured in calipers.)

Don the dust jacket with it's satin finish
The feeder sending signals, 
(Pay at the barcode.)

Pixels shining through a transparency of tears,
Thread-sewn into the end papers.
(Time to blurb.)

Maybe you are confused about this poem. That’s okay. This poem doesn’t really mean much of anything. It’s simply the result of following poetry prompt suggesting a poem using technical words from an industry of your choice. I chose the book publishing industry and this was the result.

I am in the process of reading A Nature Poem for Every Day of the Year by Jane McMorland Hunter, and it is inspiring me to attempt my own poems. Next week I’ll be sharing a poem a day, some written long long ago, some more recently, in honor or National Poetry Month.

Do you write poetry? Do you read poetry?


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