By J.p. Lawrence (Next / Previous/ Menu)
Have you witnessed a printing press in action?
The grand sheets of white
Clicking through cylinders as they spin
Collecting colors one by one
From grand belfries,
Each tower, a kingdom
Of black, cyan, magenta, or yellow?
And then the endless white river
That winds through the thicket,
Unrolls like a serpent’s tongue
Sailing steady like time itself
Past widgets and doodads
That reek of ink, ozone and oil?
Yes, it is powerful locomotion
Like the lungs of a giant
A machine of swiftness
And precision.