talking about wanting
a typewriter for a few months, probably.
she found one
bought it
paid to have it fixed
and gave it to me for Christmas.
at the time
it was one of
the best gifts I had ever gotten.
just the thing a kid
pretending to be a writer could have hoped for.
I may have used it twice.
now
it sits on the floor
of my bedroom
next to
a bag full of empty
beerbottles
clothes
the garbage can
and lamp.
it's broken
collecting dust
a lot like our relationship.
