there is a worn notebook

collection of songs

blueprints frayed at the edges

from hours, days, years spent underneath the machine

tinkering with word placement

the edges frayed

the paper sometimes coffee stained

the ink runs where liquid hit the page

these songs, while just created,

are ancient

timeless

yes, this notebook is a series that indicates creative process 

and sometimes stagnation 

and sometimes fear and anger and resentment 

this notebook is a record

an indicator of potential progress 

when looked at linearly

even with the dips and valleys

the scribbles and the words not meant crossed out

you will find pages torn from the spine to give a note to someone else

this notebook has one half of the beginning somewhere in the middle of the body

somewhere between two different songs

while the end is the first thing written

it takes a while to rework it in order

we will get there

the pages crackle when i turn them

the words themselves sing

and when they are spoken outloud 

it is like an incantation

a prayer