Compared to the modern keyboard, the word contraption lends itself to the old fashioned typewriter. When I first began my career, this mechanical means of word production was still in use. As were photographic plates. Shooting negatives to create books. I can remember therapeutic afternoons leaning over a light-table, scraping away with a scalpel.
Brown slip eclipse white stars.
Portraits of dust.
The smell of bulk paper, freshly guillotined.
A paper harvest. Sheaves of pages.
Books growing as crops.