i sat at her typewriter wearin’ plain white v-neck, plaid WalMart shorts marr’d. i sat at her typewriter as we discuss’d life problems. i sat at her typewriter dividing interest between her and the powerful feeling received through uniform ballyhoo. i sat at her typewriter feinging, waiting for her to say she’s too drunk. i sat at her typewriter as she went on with her first-world problems. i sat at her typewriter as they exchanged insults yell’d and shard’d glass of broken jars. i sat at her typewriter as she dispensed her drug. i sat at her typewriter when her and the secondary-Virgo did move to grind. i sat at her typewriter as i forged fragment’d statements to poetry. i sat at her typewriter when she had that look in her eyes. i sat at her typewriter as my life end’d. i sat at her typewriter after the snow sweat. i sat at her typewriter when she snap’d the spine of her first horse Sassafras. i sat at her typewriter when i deluded myself about loving her. i sat at her typewriter never any longer.