I want an old typewriter.
my friend told me that she got
a second-hand one
today,
and said she couldn't wait
until she could go home to finger
it's second-hand-nicotine-stained
keys.
maybe you wonder why I wish
to have such an
aged machine,
when I write to you
from a computer -
complete with screen.
well, my reasons
are as aged as an old
typewriter and as
dry as a crusted
ink ribbon but
they
are by no means void -
just like the words
typed out from the bulky
metallic thing.
the reason.
the reason.
the reason is
tapping delight fitted
with modern
message.
that is the reason why
I want an old typewriter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
cool, dig this, serene, mellow, real. thanks, jon