Disposable Poem by Christopher Shepheard

The blot revealed you, and the way
You dotted your Js — trite
Little comments, written in turquoise —
Immortal, a moment of you —
Treasure for the wallet to keep.
A postcard chosen for your reason,
Yours and mine alone, and the way
You gloved and gowned your gracefulness,
None other like yourself adorned
In your own dexterity.

The caveman left his handprint on
His wall of rock, his signature,
His epitaph, his statement, his alone —
There is none other like it in this world
Of mass-produced plastic disks
Where last night’s television tide
Has washed a billion brains.
And I cannot treasure your disposable gifts
Nor tie a faded ribbon round
Your scribbled telephone calls.

(1981)