Thoughts to Page, Ink to Mark

Benjamin Jenkins, life, poem, poems, poetry, Throwback Thursday, writing

I use a Baoer fountain pen.

When I finish writing, my fingertip

Is stained with ink to the swirling rivet.

 

I leave the Second Cup Coffee Company

Gripping a medium Americano

And an unlit cigarette.

 

The smoke from my lungs

Pours like a tidal wave.

Curling and frothing

As the tide incoming.

 

Thoughts pour from an ocean abyss

In small black droplets.

They leave an afterburn of ash

Sticking to any surface I pass.

 

A cold metal door handle

Brands my nurture and nature

Crossing Spadina to Bloor.

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2 thoughts on “Thoughts to Page, Ink to Mark

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