the line that started with 'it's'

in the time it took to walk into another room
(and look for a pen) it vanished, the first thought and now
thinking really bad thoughts and steam
on the person/s who took all the pens, even the one
in the desk drawer with the pending, nobody messes with

(and the pen) it's the opposite of close to hand
the bad lingers moving about, opening doors and windows
the overcast day coming in, me staring it out and
it could rain before the line that started with 'it's' comes back
into thought and the pen is retrieved

from a tote bag that took time to locate, using touch and reach
into a bag full of everything with one want, mouth many fucks
shopping dockets stuck to the uncovered lipstick, tobacco and keep
finding the heavy clump of keys at the bottom with tissues
these everythings, this play and the touch at the fingertips

(the pen) it's in my hand and nowhere
in my head, the line that started