certain phrases have their say
in my poems frequently
more than mere lexicon
they're my spirit vocabulary
black as printer's ink
a simile I often use
meaning more than it says
exposing more than I'd choose
ink's only black in print and
black ink isn't black you see
it's a rainbow-hued spectrum
revealed by chromatography
I only discuss the science
to distract from the memory
of basement press and printer
making little name cards for me
letterpress cabinet drawer
with names like copperplate bold
tiny metal characters neatly stored
such wondrous order to behold.
Upon the composing stick
he'd arrange moveable type
tempting trays forbidden me
about that I did often gripe
typesetting print to read
was technology back then
the typewriter's clacking keys
replacing human hand and pen
now we push buttonless buttons
a mystery I can't comprehend
touch screens are now touchless
instead of mailing we say "send."
now we don't write we "text"
instead of talking we "interface"
we talk to boxes not friends
connected in cyberspace
computers are nice compared
to messy loud printing press
or typewriter's many headaches
digit-less digital is less stress
we've got to look forward and
Grampa would be first to agree
looking only backward you miss
all the cool new things to see
But (there's always one) we still
found something gestalt in the press
though always covered in ink
it' was a "type" of mood therapy I guess
I often mind walk in the workshop
down in Crestwood Memory Lane
to sort, if allowed, his letterbox
I will never see the like again
Pictures from Wikipedia user https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Trimalchio and Willi Heidelbach.
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