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writer at rest


writer at rest

books are overflowing the shelves
and bookstores are still
some of my favorite destinations
where my people gather
drinking overpriced lattes
admiring poetry selections
and how my bags
are always heavier when i return
from vacation
always a book or two
i must read in my lifetime
or the next
but the bookstore
must survive
i pay my homage this time
to dante – a new inferno translation
to huxley – a larger collected works
and some unbounded modern philosopher
talking about the third unconscious
to untether my mind
from such mundane and pedestrian thoughts
of working for a living
selling my time and energy
at the expense of my words
consumed and left behind
this flightless bird
still has songs
black wing
of the party
writing things down


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