Interrupted While Reading in Public

A nothing—

you suppose

and assume

too much

upon others:

as if your presence,

and proximit,y

are enough,

you claim space

upon our attention.

You who speaks

a flurry

of flatulence—

Who are you

to say we’re rude?

Like pebbles,

you throw words

to blind,


and silence.

At best, 

you are a gnat

flitting between

this book

and the table.

(September 16, 2019)

Lost Books

Several weeks ago something made me think about rereading Tristan Tzara’s “Approximate Man.” I searched every bookcase in the house multiple times( yes, I am obsessive). I couldn’t find it. I knew I had not loaned it out… I mean who do I know that would want to read it? Then yesterday, from across the room, I spotted it on the shelf in plain sight. I figure a ghost, or old age.