Ink Spots


Pens never worry

so why should 

I?  And I 


worry about everything.

Except pens.  There 

will always be


pens.  Lost ones.  

Found ones.  Expired 

ones.  Disposable ones


like a cough.  Like 

pennies.  Like milk.  

Ubiquitous by design


in curdling circulation.

Give a pen – 

Take a penny –


Like a deliberate 

act, rebellion refines 

its magical margins,


alley fights, pencils 

dropped for deuces 

wild, penicillin bartered


on the open

market.  Too spoiled 

by unlimited chance,


the pen genuflects

to its own

identity, its own


penmanship a check

mark for who

springs the convicted,


who comes up 

with bail bondsmen 

at this hour.

MARC MEIERKORT is a writer and educator who has taught high school English for the past 19 years.  A graduate of Southern Illinois University at Carbondale (B.S.) and National-Louis University (M.A.T.), he currently lives in Chicago’s western suburbs.  He has recently had poems published by Crack the Spine Literary Magazine, The Roanoke Review, The Main Street Rag, Columbia College Literary Review, and The Nassau Review.