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.