To Whomever Picks Me Up

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Handle me
while I handle your ideas,
for your knowledge belongs to me.
I am the weapon you choose
to carry out the war of your words.
You will use me
and sharpen me
till you've made your point.

I will transfer each of your thoughts
through every swift stroke.
I will conduct the symphony of
words, phrases, punctuation.
I will help spill the stains
of your mind, poisoning paper
with crumbs of my immortality.

and these remnants on paper--
caged between blue lines--
will l i n g e r
until my enemy erases every
shread of my
being.





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