Weekly feature by: E.A. Feliu

I pause, wondering if it’s really you.
“For Betsey F—–,
with every good wish.”
Then a signature
that looks like cow tits.
Your name is crossed out
on the title page, replaced
by the peaks and valleys
of a sine graph.
It arrived on the heels
of Laps, which I finished
the night before, remembering
things unspoken, though claimed.
This has a favorite,
“Back from the Word-Processing Course,
I Say to my Old Typewriter,”
first found in Norton.
Earlier that afternoon,
I bought an Olympia SM9 Deluxe.
I love its gray West German grace,
the oily glide of the carriage
as I enter this line,
hesitating to mention
I spilled coffee on the book
and now there are mud clouds
on every page
until Seasons and Transformations.