This legendary notebook
fastidiously kept
by the masters
plying their craft.
There are many like it
but this one is mine.
Resolute in its
brokenness, set upon
left ass cheek pocket
falls apart like all the others.
Dead soldiers
in a red desk drawer
pillbox.
If I were in
any way
conservative,
it would be
the judicious
use of space
bound before me
on tiny lined pages
and tight, cramped script
that one would be hard-
pressed to decipher
even on a larger
venue.
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