What I Said to the Small-Town Newspaper Reporter When She Asked About My Creative Process as I Finished My Fourth Beer at A Poetry Reading. By Jim Bourey

Pen on paper is better, mostly,

than the machine because nothing

needs to be booted, set aright, clicked,

spelt checked. Yes spelt. Oh sure,

I can cross out, black out even, words

with my Precise V5 (a high tech name)

rolling ball full of fast drying ebon. Lines

work their way down, words spill or crawl.

But in the end, machine it will be

for sending off and getting back

a yes or sad no thanks. My pen

exploded on an airplane high

above Utah one day in August.

A flight attendant was kind. My shirt

was ruined but I still wear it and will until I die.

Jim Bourey is an old poet who divides his year between the Adirondack Mountains and Dover, Delaware. His chapbook “Silence, Interrupted” was published in 2015 by the Broadkill River Press. His work has appeared in Mojave River Review, Paddock Review, Gargoyle and the Broadkill Review and other journals and anthologies. He was first runner up in the Faulkner-Wisdom Poetry Competition in 2012 and 2016. He has served as an adjudicator for the Poetry Out Loud competition in Delaware. In his North Country months, he is active with the St. Lawrence Area Poets and has taken part in Art/Poetry projects in Saranac Lake.