sometimes i like an essay about a new book
more than the book itself, and i find myself
settling for the former more and more often.
i used to like to walk between the bookshelves
and grab some at random. now, i play it safe,
so i have decided to limit myself to books
that use words like wherefore and asunder,
and the singular forms of second-person
personal pronouns that differ from the plural.
after all, the answer is only as important
as the right question.
hidden pilcrow 