“Bookshelf”

the titles reached up high,
the mountains of fantasy
dominating the upper reaches
in long stretches of hard-to-say
names and strange england-like
lands, then came the crime
in black-and-white city streets
and men with eyes too haggard,
then bright-souled coming of age
novels, asking for optimism and love.

at the bottom sat the poems
tucked into notebooks.

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“Livelihood”

Drips of livelihood collapse
in dreary dim lit canyons
of unfounded free-thinking architecture
expecting us to foot the bill
for all the ink it had to waste
in fixing the margins and chapters
and titles.