A Note on Formatting
This poem is formatted differently. Because of that, it can’t appear as text on this page. Instead, the poem is inserted as an image. Alt-text is available.
![Amid the achromic graphite pencils and the fine-tip washable markers and the ballpoint gel pens, you pick her out from the bucket. You believe that you can have any one you want. The fresh red pen catches your eye, and you lazily decide that it means she wants you too. No. You uncap her, revealing innocence that you crave: a shiny new toy. No second or third or fourth or fifth thoughts. You call it a painting: the ink that spills along the blank paper. But it’s nothing like that. You cannot cultivate art from this. No drawing between the lines. No. You decide rules don’t apply. Casting permanent stains on the open notebook, you line the pages in crimson. You write no words yet you leave nothing unsaid. [new stanza] You use up her ink until you decide you no longer like the colour red. And that night she washes two and three and four and five times with soap and water. Out damned spot. Footnote: Shakespeare, W. (1992). Macbeth. Wordsworth Editions.](https://sumacliterarymagazine.com/staging/2534/wp-content/uploads/2023/08/Favourite-Red-Pen_Web-Post1024_1.jpg)
Jennifer Goodman is a third-year student majoring in English with a concentration in creative writing. She has had a passion for writing her whole life and it has only grown with age. In 2021, she began working as a ghostwriter for The Urban Writers and has published numerous non-fiction novels under a pseudonym. In 2021, Jennifer was longlisted for the CBC Non-Fiction Short Story prize for her story, “Raining Glitter.” She hopes to be a full-time writer in the future.
