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I’ve accepted paper clips, rusted
when I should have chosen binder clips, the fancy kind
bigger the better, easier to keep all of me in one place.
I’ve kept myself in messy stacks
papers sticking to other papers and other stacks
useless copies, rereading what I’ve written twice already.
I’ve favorite pens that I neglect
Leave the tops off, shortening the lifespan
losing them besides, lost are all the sharpened pencils.
I’ve settled myself in disarray
chaos is the only proof there’s order, a cosmic alphabet
no need refiling, misfiled is worse.
Your Sympathies: