If I lived inside a printer,
I think life would be just swell.
There’d be nowhere to go, but up.
The ink cartridges would supply me
with free tattoos; the paper with cuts.
But if I lived inside a printer,
I’d eventually want to be printed. I guess
I’d have to be flattened out, because
there’d be nowhere to go, but up.
But please, have mercy, don’t print me in
black and white — bring me to life in Roy G. Biv;
because if I lived inside a printer,
I think life would be just swell.
Image: Amara Gelaude/The Cascade