pictures taken by my children:





these keys will never make a mark, but
they have been so anxiously waiting that they are
bent, posed to say something again

G and J are broken; the rest are bent
this typewriter is no longer useful, being so old–
but that is why I cherish it.


I only get one shot

one shot I cannot delete

one shot I cannot edit

so I fiddle, adjust, slowly

carefully double checking my manual settings

no battery power, nothing automatic

it’s just me and the light

one shot

push the shutter, rewind, start over

I don’t even know if it worked.

barbed wire

Is life cruel? It sends us surprises sometimes

and I am surprised to see failure at my doorstop

hope is so far away sometimes–but I have to cling to it

clinging to it because despair cuts my palms–

I fell on despair, and still, it won’t let me go.

But life is not that bad at all, not really, becasue

I’m not bleeding anymore, I’m not hurting anymore

I am holding on to hope now, and staring at failure–

staring it at its face and saying that I don’t believe in it

And magically–except for it isn’t magic at all

the failure disappears.