Our books and their eyes

How must our books see us?

Imagine their dusty eyes,
all yellowing from age and pale
milky and musty
Hoarse murmurings
dry, sandy cough

They’d see us shaking as we teeter for their every word
then SLAM
to the freezer when it all becomes too much

Too little, too late

They’ve got us mesmerised in their messages and
phrases so carefully spelled out
Oops, the proof reader didn’t proof this copy six times over
this is a grammatical error
and this,
this is a spelling mistake

They’d see us from angles we’d wish just didn’t exist
see us naked under sheets and silk
Reading by torchlight, just one more chapter
just one more poem

The dreaded and always foreseen


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s