THE TYPEWRITER PROJECT

The Poetry Society of New York 4/5/17 The Poetry Society of New York 4/5/17

Desde nell jardín de los senderos que se diferirLoose senderos que se bifurcan.de Borges, desde Argentina, Sud America. Hoy vengo a caminar por su jardín. Estella, from Buenos Aires, Sud America, este jardín me esperaba en USA,

The Poetry Society of New York 4/5/17 The Poetry Society of New York 4/5/17

Tomorrow is my birthday. Today I'm here with my sister. I celebrate for days. Today is my 53rd birthday. I remember writing college papers on an electric typewriter. The digital age has spoiled me. (Where are the emoji keys?)

The Poetry Society of New York 4/5/17 The Poetry Society of New York 4/5/17

Your name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body in pieces to call you once by your name.

The Poetry Society of New York 4/5/17 The Poetry Society of New York 4/5/17

My subconscious mind is the place where everything exists

Everyone types a message but me.

I'm in heaven--a typewriter from my youth. NOW I can

Start my novel. Oh no--where's the whiteout.