a best seller

i weigh the book

in my hand, it's heavy,
i look at the front
cover,
then back.

i look at the praise,
the blurbs

in bright quotes
inside.

a must read, says the new
York times.

fabulous, the post says.
and the examiner

puts up four stars.

i turn to the last page
and read
the last line.

i sigh. maybe tomorrow
i'll begin, maybe not.

but tonight, it's poetry.
it's red wine.

i get up from the chair
and set
the book in front
of the door
that keeps swinging open.

i'll be back, i tell the book,
no worries,
you'll be fine.