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"The
Bookstore" by Linda Munson Peth
I run into you accidentally on purpose and the pages fly.
Knocked
down, dragged out, you shout,
"We've
got to stop meeting like this," but,
Oh,
Honey, what bliss in the Bookstore by the bus stop,
Our
favorite place to shop, browse, exchange
The
World's Greatest Everything, sections, aisles: Smiles.
You
had your arms full of the best, top ten sellers, thrillers, mysteries.
What
more could you want when they've got everything you desire,
Lines
of fire.
You
saw the films, read the books, took a good look at the illustrations, and there's still more.
Picking yourself up, you are surprised to see me
Weeping
over Ten Thousand Leaves:
"These
arms were used
To
hold my lovely wife
As
we slept entwined.
How
could they ever again
Pillow
another woman's head?"
(She's
dead. You sigh.) I finish crying.
Now
you want to pick out a few more selections, and
If
you can do it
And
escape detection,
You will slip me a note that says:
Get something good for yourself.
Take
it home and read it.
Or
even better, put it in a letter, and send it to our address.
Meanwhile,
it's time to clean up the mess we've made here.
Next,
you come around.
I'm looking in the Lost and Found.
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You
come right up close and show me the story of Detective Ratchet
And
his loyal assistant Watchit
In
the Tale of a Lad Who Died of A Love Overdose.
I
want to know what it would take to commit this crime
And
how much time such a criminal act would take.
Better
yet, maybe they'll make it into a movie and
I
won't have to read the book, but we'd better move,
Because
people are starting to look at us strangely.
I'd
spend my last dime here, for I fear I am developing an Oriental mind,
Kind
of subtle,
So
much understanding, so few words,
And
I have heard of such graceful sparring,
Practically without speaking,
Strength
expressed in weakness,
Kindness
expressed in nuance.
Of
course, I'm still taking the lessons,
So
I buy the books, soak up your look
And
leave with you for dinner at the Delicatessen.
(July 6, 1988)
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Ghost House, The Lighthouse
Ghost House, The Tree
Ghost House, The Widows' Walk
San Francisco Palace of Fine Arts
Spells
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