From one side of the pool to the other, pacific waves cursive; held by rocks hard-backed in blue. A visiting squid squirts ink fresh and black. A pseudomorph arrows from the nib.
For Christmas ‘Secret Santa’ gave me a dinky, frosted pink fountain pen. It’s small; probably about 8cm in length. Its micro-cartridges only last about a dozen A4 pages, which spans two to three days of writing in my world. The half-a-dozen cartridges that came with the pen were used up long ago. I have been without ink for nearly six months, so today I decided to re-stock.
Here’s a link about the ink-squirting of cephalopods. I’ll leave you to peer into the metaphorical rock pool and make sense of the squid and its pseudomorph.
In the Ocean: a year of poetry
Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys
Shining in Brightness: Selected Poems, 1999 – 2012