*** [untitled four]

exploring the anatomy
of timeless classics
in smooth leather covers
with headbands made
of mercerised cotton
mr nothing found a sketch
of himself and the poet
sitting on the floor
between the shelves
drawing some daubs
on the pages of books

it used to be a place
for recalcitrant siblings
mastering the art
of emphatic period
with a few premises
and a bowl of porridge
they no longer read
anything but notes
on flaps of the dust
jacket of russian realists
and the stock leaflet

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 )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.