METAMORPHOSIS

(printing a poem on the platen press)

 I stand,

facing the wooden trays,

picking

letter by leaden letter,

molding them into

the word.

I arrange the words,

side by side,

into the line,

encased in lead blocks.

I build the lines,

one by one,

into the stanza,

into the poem--

becoming alive

inside the chase,

enclosed

by wooden

and leaden

furniture,

held fast

by quoins

and key.

I place the chase

into the cradle

of the platen press,

apply the ink

onto the plate,

that transfers

onto the rollers,

onto the letters, the words, the lines,
the poem.

The press rotates,

the poem flies

onto paper,

into minds,

into air,

becomes

ephemeral.

I take out the chase,

insert the key,

release the quoins,

remove the furniture,

return the lines,

the words,

the letters

back into

the wooden boxes.

Until the next time

when they’re needed

to be molded

into the new

poem.