Ideas pop and sizzle in
sponge-like gray pockets of
human byte-size menus. Words
coagulate to form eclectic
mental visions that tantalize.
Keyboard clicks with strokes
lovingly designed toward success.
Flattened wood pulp jammed
around the platen to catch the ink jet splatters.
Manila pockets of hope that
carry out the mission, like
the Pony Express of yesterday.
It suffers the Hara-kiri ritual
performed by ordinary letter openers.
It waits for the brusque editorial
attention its author has waited to
hear. Waiting to feed the need.
Licking up comments like crumbs
that fall to the floor.
Floated towards the river of acceptance,
or resigned to slush pile ignominy.
The author waits with bated breath
and a tingly expectation, as the SASE
is gleaned from the morning mail.
Janice J. Robinson
© November 30, 1995