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Poem

The time reads ten on the clock

and I take in hand my pen.


I pull up my chair to my makeshift desk

and begin removing books from the panel

so that I may lift it and peer into my chest.


One by one I move them, one and all,

the short and the tall.


Moby Dick, The Idiot, Republic, Walden

and Civil Disobedience, The Oxford Book

of American Verse, Alcoholics Anonymous,

The Divine Comedy, This Side of Paradise,

VITA NUOVA, Paradise Lost and Paradise

Regained, Selected Poetry and Prose of Poe,

The Audacity of Hope, and so on and so

on until not one was left not even the

Bible which had rested on their heads.


I opened my chest and went searching

for treasures of my past. Most

were trinkets I stored away like a pack rat.

I found little figures of pirates and

soldiers which I played with when a boy,

marbles and sand dollars, Chinese stars

and nun chucks, most were not even my favorite

toys. I saw yearbooks from middle school and

others from high school. I dared not crack their

spines for I felt not enough time has passed

yet. I found letters from Francheska, Lucy, and Jenny.

I saw pictures of Stephanie, Virginia, and Niki.

then I began to read poems from Nicole and

glanced at the time. It was already one twenty nine.


Alas, it was a nice trip to the past, but now it is time

to close the panel and resume to my books

and my work, for if my head stayed in my chest I

would surely go berserk!

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