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So, you want to write me out of your life?

Your narrative version does not match mine.

I am not a character who is in search

of an author; I can write my own script.

I can type my own face, printer’s devil.

All those complicating events by now

should have been resolved through denouement,

but you seem to be a Titivillus,*

somehow willing me to make an error:

to blot my copybook.  Your fingertips,

indelible, are smudged over my life.

I will not allow you to typecast me.

There are omissions in my manuscript.

I admit my lead type is worn, broken.

My reprographic days are over, fading.

You want to throw me into a hellbox,

but I have submitted to my meltdown.

I am trusting that I can be re-cast

in a different matrix, my mould unlocked.

You pour your molten fury into me.

When I have cooled, I will compose anew-

over and over and over again.

Fonts of matrices will bless my re-birth

on a tabula rasa, my clean sheet.

You can still strike glyphs by your letter punch;

and you try to roll me out on wet clay.

Frankly, that’s a little out-of-date; a little crude,

your published version of me obsolete.

Your Phaistos Disc** no longer convinces.

in fact, it has been deemed a forgery.

Its insufficient context defies one

to make a meaningful analysis.

I have more letters in my alphabet,

so do not need your smoke proofs.

My type-height has grown with my confidence.

The new print run publishes my version.

It’s the First edition- not ghost-written.

You don’t know my type and you never will.

Love resided in the led, not false gold.

With tin and antimony it can move

to tears, rather than turning weaponry.


*Titivillus- a demon who worked on behalf of Satan,

introducing errors into the work of scribes.  He

presented his master with a bag of failings and typos

at the end of each day.

**Phaistos Disc- a Minoan spiral of stamped symbols,

thought to be a logography.

Crete - Phaistos disk - side A.JPG