I miss an awkward yesterday. Our restaurant juke box & peering through theglass, when pinball wasracy and asteroids were fast.
Clothes lines, basementbands, the daysbefore paymentplans, the natural grooves
of analogand the clickety click clack of typing class.I owe Ms. Koebal and that old machineStill sit back upsnap at those keys.How did you bold withOne of these?
back space back space type it over
Memory always elevatesbut there was something deliciously fun...in throwing that carriage, slammin' that phone!
Something utterly divine about a friend of mine making a mixed tapeflipping through discs, vinyl fits of brilliance, phasing in, rewinding, finding,bleedin' costello into cream, prince intopixies, playing with pacethe space between.
Playing with pace the space between.
It was collage and tribute of timing and artful leaps
but mostly it was awkward.
Digital has made us impatient.
How do you bold now?Control b, blog andfacebook me. Is there somethinglost in easy?
I justswitched fromthe old payphone. Public'sbecome manky.Now you haveto own.
Or tell me straight...am I just getting old?With the same refrain I oncedisdained. When I was young.
I swear that I asked him to live with me because he was the last to write me
letters. Art and song, lovely long hand dotted with drawings.
He licked each stamp, lived with the weight, the great awkwardness of envelope.
Nanci Lee is a writer, a community development worker and an adult educator (not necessarily in that order) based in Halifax. She works with co-operatives, women’s associations and microfinance. She won the Writers’ Federation of Nova Scotia poetry contest for unpublished manuscripts last year and her poems have appeared in Contemporary Verse2, Antigonish Review and Fiddlehead (forthcoming). She loves winter and analog.