I look around; I want to scream.

A sea of paper sets the scene.

I seem to be the queen of rag

as paper reigns supreme.

Computer hi-tech has occurred

and though I do process the word,

my world’s wallpapered on all sides;

it’s really quite absurd.

I’ve paper towels and paper plates

and pamphlets mailed in

by bulk rate

and tissue paper, toilet paper,

wrapping paper, pads,

legal paper, lined paper,

typing paper, tabs.

And plain paper and paper cups,

and magazines and bills spring up.

I’ve paperbacks and paper bags, crepe paper and books,

sticky notes and calendars,

recipes and checks.

And labels, letters, ledgers too,

and stamps, receipts and tape.

That’s me beneath the coupon cloud

collapsed by paperweight.

If every piece of paper now

should represent a tree,

I’m lost forever in the woods-

a paper majesty.

Gail (Apr.’11) tells about this poem, “In spite of the fact that I performed secretarial duties all my life, I still need one — secretary, that is! Paper has a way of overwhelming me. I’m an information freak, for one thing, add that to being afraid I’ll forget, I hang onto paper.

There’s hope — no paper in the hereafter!”

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