The note-pad is used and rather old
The writing on its spine has faded from gold,
But while its pages are frayed and it has aged
Its power has grown undiminished like a maturing sage.
There was a day the note-pad was new,
A day where there was little it could do
It is today that it is loved,
Kept safely like a dove.
It is no ordinary book
At which we merely look
There to leave it idle as a pond
The note-pad exists to function, it is a paper wand.
Its every page is document
A useful testament
In that it combines necessary calculations
With romantic tales and wild exaltations.
It's covered by the rows numeric,
Of flats and addresses telephonic
Where every figure represents
Unwritten codes a secret presence.
You want a picnic party?
For celebration day?
You ring Nik.Nik. and he will find
The necessary way.
Sometimes it's a more demanding task
to tie the codes up,
then only fantasy applied
can give you the result:
Obtain fabric (through Peter)
And send it to Abram,
Who will return the favour
That's wanted by the Dame.
You try to manage all the calls,
To contact them in turn,
and winter turns into spring
of a distribution system.
For The Breakdown)
E-Mail Me At CityRaven@aol.com