Thursday, February 09, 2017

Shahé Mankerian: Keepsake

In my office, Father’s framed

black and white photo rests 
next to my green Olivetti. 

When I look elsewhere, 
students under scrutiny stroke 
the dusty typewriter with caution 

because he scowls at them 
with his thick eyebrows. 
The fearless force the faded 

alphabet keys to strike the black 
cylinder without paper. 
Fingers tap dance 

as they throw sideway glances. 
A brown-eyed kindergartner 
in a dirty ponytail bangs 

the space bar until she hears 
the ding of the bell. She fiddles 
with the ribbon and asks, 

“Is it dead?” I know 
she means the typewriter, 
but I keep looking at Father.

This poem was published in These Fragile Lilacs Poetry Journal, Volume II, issue II. 

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