The shelves have become barren of those silly cards, those throw-away phrases that always tried so hard to make us laugh, in aisles of the grocery store and boutique shops and kiosks in the mall, manufactured thanks spit out by cold machines, while I'm still one of those few who settles down in the quiet, pen in hand, to carve out poems from the bones of memory, a crinkled paper-cut of words tucked into the folds of your jacket pocket

for #openwrite