I consume pages carnivorously, capricious cast away

thoughts of tectonic plates, shifting tangents

amaretto on the lips of an American tourist

I could get lost in the library, elaborate array

of books set out for no other reason but for my fingers to play,

my optic nerves devour every centimeter of inscription

every word sinking into my synapses, it tends to illicit intense
satisfaction, brightening me up, chipper as a blue jay

I gulp the written word, beautifully arranged on display

visually satisfying and intellectually stimulating,

escape to far off realities, distant from real life's fallacies

I'm a book worm in every sense of the cliché

intricate instillation of wisdom, parallels to portray

on a full page of perfection, bits of language

shaped aesthetically into constellations

some more highly wrought than the milky way

DL