they are taking
down
the library
around the corner
they need
the room
and space
to put
another coffee
shop
and outlet in.
the books are bleeding
ink
as each stone
falls
to the ground.
war and peace,
the fear of flying
catcher in the rye
and run rabbit run,
all finally
meeting in a shoveled
pile, eye to eye.
the librarian
is sitting on a stool
wiping
her tears,
grinding her
teeth, texting
on her
I pad
what has the world
come to, woe
is me.
woe is me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment