I’m building my mind, one book at a time.
The layers rise above my feet, past my knees.
First,a myriad of mysteries, then nothing but Junie B. Jones
for more than two courses, don’t laugh.
The writings of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg.
I place them with the binding in. I can see
their names; titles that titillated, enticed, writers
who have taken part of their mind
and offered it to become part of mine.
Am I expanding my horizons
or constructing limits..sometimes I cannot tell
but soon my books will blot the sun.
And I will have no words of my own to speak.
I’m building my mind, one book at a time.
The layers rise above my feet, past my knees.
First,a myriad of mysteries, then nothing but Junie B. Jones
for more than two courses, don’t laugh.
The writings of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg.
I place them with the binding in. I can see
their names; titles that titillated, enticed, writers
who have taken part of their mind
and offered it to become part of mine.
Am I expanding my horizons
or constructing limits..sometimes I cannot tell
but soon my books will blot the sun.
And I will have no words of my own to speak.