Upon Holding a Notebook Again
I bought a leather-bound notebook,
Much too impressive
For what I had planned for it,
And carried it down King Street.
As its power began to take hold,
The images flashed,
Flipped through my mind
Like a rabid, demonic sketchbook
Until, as it had once been,
My second vision began to consume
The material realm:
I have been away from myself
For far too long.
I found a coffee shop, a cliché,
As the notebook returned
My essence: The Obligation.
I stood, pen in hand,
A rough, bearded beast,
Slouching towards Byzantium.
No comments:
Post a Comment