They are three deep  on shelves,

Wilted and torn  but all too special.

Kindle was to save the day,

But I keep buying and buying.

Read in Kindle, that’s fine,

but often I need the paper.

I  write, underline and star in my books.

Books on seeking God,

Hundreds and hundreds,

Yet I keep seeking.

None have  the final answer, but

They all have beautiful answers.

Conversations with God, I love, I wish.

Every Man Dies Alone,

In English, and saying who I am.

Recovery, recovery, millions of

Ideas on recovery. I’m not recovered.

The Joy of Living, but not much joy.

No Joy of Cooking.

I love my books on Churchill,

But I’ll never be great like he was.

My favorite book in the world:

The Way the World Works,

Not my favorite, but I love the title.

I wish I understood how the world works.

I want to write a book with an

Arrogant title, to show how

Smart I wish to be.

The Secret of Prosperity, my ass.

Black Dogs and Bad Dog, that is I.

I’m asked to give them away to

Make room  for nothingness.

But I need more room so I take boxes

and boxes to the library.

Here is my contribution.

Someone might read these.

I save all of my books because

I might want to find an excerpt or

Might want to read them again.

I never read  them again because

There is not enough time in the world

To read all the books I need to read.

However, my re-do of Anna Karenina is

Smoking in the Kindle with torn leather cover.

The dog chewed up the cover.

This is my entry for Poetry Potluck – Hobbies & Passions, Pastimes & Entertainment at Jingle Poetry.