the long distance writer
sets pen onto paper
no
he taps keys to make marks
on a fifteen inch screen
maybe seventeen
maybe smaller
the ‘s’ key
isssss sssssticky
there’s muck in the ssssspacesssss
where commasssss might go
periodsssss and colonsssss
exclamationsssss
ssssso he digsssss out the ‘s’ key
disssssplacesssss three hairs
a paperclip
two fluffballsssss
and a golden-brown crumb
from the bun he ate here
not more than a week ago
replacesssssssssssss the ‘s’
with a firm prod
and a tes-s-s-s-t run
to see it’s all working
and ready to roll
the long distance writer
interrupts his thought lines
he cannot think clear without coffee
to help the creation
of line breaks
and the rhythm and rhyme
in his head
are always in need of flat-white
as a lubricant
a moment please
the long distance writer
checks on his email
to see if there’s a comment
from someone out there
some any old where
about the last piece he wrote
and submitted
he’s only as good as he feels
and he feels quite strongly
that he’s only as good
as the last piece
and the next
only as good
as the e-mailers tell him
the long distance writer
flexes his fingers
the coffee is already cold
ideas are fleeting and thin
but it’s time to write something
so
how should it start
maybe something about
writing a poem
from a distance
or the making of love
on a bright day of sunshine
the meeting of three people
at a party
and the things they said
perhaps better come back
later in the day
after lunch
after phone calls
after slow-reading the mail
the long distance writer
is too busy to write now
he’ll transfer a small verse
from keyboard to screen
at some other time
then post it for comment
to a place far away
that’s as close
as the button
that despatches messages to e-mail land
then wait
till he hears some response
to assure he’s still alive
still breathing
and valid
© Frank Prem, 2014
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