The Words on My Wall

snip,snip
another clipping
another poem
(this one’s called A Fresh Pair Of Eyes)
to tape up on my wall.
soon,
my whole wall will be a collage of words
from all around the world,
and by all kind of people.
there’s one i especially like.
it’s called I Don’t Want To
by Azalea Brennan
from Valley City, North Dakota.
it’s about that addiction writer’s have –
that addiction to the pen.
in fact,
i love them all.
i love to run my fingers through them
(most of the clippings
hang off of my shelf
on my wall, dangling and swaying)
and feel them flicking against my skin
like butterfly wings
as they flit away.
i’ll move on
to press my paint-smeared fingertips
against my own wrinkled papers
and scribbles
and compare them to the ones on my wall.
are they better?
are they worse?
well, who cares.
they’re mine.
unlike the 2-D clippings on my wall
and hanging off my shelf,
i can actually feel the ink strokes
and see the smears of ink and lead
on the side of my hand.
and who knows?
maybe one day
my name
will be written at the bottom
of one of those
flimsy
2-D
dangling
swaying
clippings.