Saturday, October 2, 2010

Poem for Reading


Let the binding bend,

Write your name in pen;

Know the thumbprint

And the miscreant

Mark--know the malformed eye,

Let your finger run the spine

And let the line be thumbed.

Thumb it yourself: Don't think

About humidity

Or where the stain came from;

It is not a hieroglyph,

And the bend is an arc of

Nothing. Gaze into it.

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