Friday, August 01, 2008

My Writing Desk

My writing desk is:

the computer desk in the spare bedroom
back roads all over Oregon
an Amtrak car
the Portland Esplanade
the bridge at Astoria
the computer desk at my office
the Columbia Gorge and Mount Hood
Cannon Beach
a Tri-Met bus
the coffee shop in Powell’s City of Books
the big rock under the willow, overlooking the river
an airplane window
the Sylvia Beach Hotel in Newport
the wayside at Criterion Crest
my neighborhood and all the streets of Portland
the lawn outside a house in Michigan
a balcony on a hotel in Las Vegas
my front porch
the world

Collection available! Knocking from Inside


Greyscale Territory said...

And your computer travels light! All baggage in www vault!

Love this fun, pacey poem!

Sascha Cooper said...

I think it's definitely something - travelling to different places. The sights, smells and atmosphere to them! This is what the poem has captured so well without any overindulgence! A wonderful read :-)

Sascha xxx

Pen Me A Poem said...

The joys of modern technology come to light in this poem. Where would we be without laptops! Nice writing.

Dan Gambiera said...

PMaP, I hate to give away Tiel's Trade Secrets but...

She doesn't have a laptop. When she writes in her study or her office she writes on a computer. The rest of the time it's on the corpses of trees.

b said...

Me home is not matter of where I am. It is not the house or the mountain or Powell's or the desert or the Orenco Station. It is the air I breath and the people I meet.


Anonymous said...

The choppy fast pace of this lends the feeling of incorporating it into our frenzied lives. It is very interesting how you chose to move from one thing to the next, letting the reader fill in the rest.