I lose pens.
Just sitting here in Mama’s chair
Where I like to write
I keep a journal there
And pens
But the pens go missing
I don’t know how
I put them down right here
On a tray on Robert’s little end table
For that use
So that there’s always a pen to hand
For writing down these thoughts
(they’re brilliant thoughts, you understand)
In fact
There should be several pens
I leave them there
Gathered from meetings, conferences
With logos and sayings
So that you remember where
you got it
Some of them quite nice!
They spent a lot of money
So that you’d recall that time
You went to that gathering
Some are garbage, the ink skips
And are somewhat annoying to write with
But they need to be there
Where I can reach them from this chair

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