Breaking Bookshelf

upon opening the door, i saw my bookshelf had broken, beat down by the weight of the barbell which i had foolishly set atop & so, relishing in the chaotic spill of beautiful books, now laying all over the floor in a mess, i wondered why i had ever invested in a bookshelf to begin with? thought to myself that back in the days of school, i had them stacked up in a chorus of uneven towers, like that of Hitch, whom anytime he did an interview from the room where he wrote, one could adore the stacks upon stacks that this brilliant man did pick & devour from, to weave his works--- in rounding up the mess, i took the bottom shelf to lay on the floor as the new base for a chorus of uneven towers of my own, as a tribute out of necessity to the man, now gone, but still with us--- one of those whom i wish i had gotten to meet, one of those whose voice still thunders & thunders, against the wrongs of this horror that we alive, still call home.