I’ve filled four notebooks
At this job, and that
Only includes physical pages,
Not digital Microsoft Word
Documents. And also I’ve filled
tens - maybe hundreds -
Of sticky notes. Hundreds
of pages of virgin notebooks
Spoiled as I fill
them with ink that
bleeds through paper, Marking each word's
Mirror on the back of the page.
This page
is ruined - using a number 2
pencil might save paper, but words
have more power in a book
that
is bleeding with black, filled
with blue, overflowing
with spoiled, wrinkled, wet pages
I’d rather use a pen that
leaves a stain a hundred
pages thick than fill a notebook
With spidery grey words.
Even if stupid words
Are what fills
My notebooks,
Even if pages
Are riddled with a hundred
Misspellings, that
Confident ink, that
thick stroke, these solid words
Are worth a hundred
times more than unfilled
pages.
A book
Is worth a thousand pictures, a glass half-full
of that well-inked style of word,
As with confidence and permanent gloppy dye I fill the pages of a well-used notebooks.