Somestuff to
unblank these lines,
encrypted as they are
with syllables rejecting
penned-ink ‘less
composed completely.
Somestuff to
bring out these lines,
pre-written as they are
with their signature of
time ‘n tempo, traced
in rock-grey matter.
Somestuff to
release, release this
ink-spring from this fount;
tendons tuned to channel
through my grip my
abstractions.
Somestuff to
present to whom-
soever ever reads it.
Five thousand years etched
into sandstone stood
those fleeting thoughts.
My name is William Altoft. I’m a writer in and from (and consistently on) Bristol, in the UK.
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