Great Book

Crack the back of the great book

And let the prose melt into memory.

One lovely word at a time.

One lovely page at a time.

 

Reflections and quiet sighs look

To translate the master’s art and imagery.

My two hands tear a page out.

Each page is read and torn out.

 

Admitting failure, I mistook

The written words as a production of me.

The pages are crumpled and tossed.

Each page is crumpled and tossed.

 

I read, tear, and toss the book

To a cold floor, now dotted with vagaries.

Tightly crushed pages tell the story.

Trash denotes the failed story.

 

Discarding the spine, I’m shook

By the little poems littering the library.

I must write what is destroyed

And re-do what I’ve enjoyed.