As we all sit
and stew,
cutting ties,
pasting tape
on another June
I scrap the tattered
notebook lying
spread open, nearly
from my cluttered desk.

Coffee stains blanketing
and etched out
thoughts; Arrows
flying across pages
redirecting pea-sized
phrases, unmissable ribbed edges
from being squished
in my book bag—

where it shall be placed
for another
11 months.