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Archive for August 12th, 2008

Here is a poem I wrote many years ago. If you read it the right way, it sounds just like my press room on a busy day. Breathless!

ODE TO A HEIDELBERG

 O Press!

O Heidelberg that swings

While at the same time

Squats, solid & black

& shining.

Your windmill arms

Flash and flick, crack

& whip around a breeze.

Your flywheel sings

A bass beat.

(That little tear in the belt clicks,

Repeats, clicks, repeats.)

Your gears chunk.

Pheumatic song you sing,

The whirling mesh of

Bearings.

The suck, the swoosh,

Wheezy exhale of air blast,

The pump, the low tones,

The hush between.

The thump of paper to type,

The hiss of ink between

Form rollers & drum,

The fountain a metronome,

Feeding color to the page.

Crisp rap of paper

Flipping round,

Delivered

Picked up

Delivered

Picked up

Delivered.

Light, clipped, rotating,

Giving voice

To someone’s dream.

Words, meaning, definition

(distinguishment Style Typographic)

Keep those cards & letters

Coming.

Windmill

Windmill

Heidelberg

Windmill

Windmill

Press Press Press

Rhythm & Blues

Rhythm & Reds

Rhythm & Blacks

Meaning in the sheet.

Meaning in the printer.

(Platen Tympan Forme Bed)

Squatty black elegance:

A German machine:

No screws,

Tapered pins

And harmony of use.

“Work taken to extremes

Describes love.”

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