by prior rearrangement
having cleared my shelves
it is surprisingly clear
how many books have gone
in one year and out the other
and now
i can rearrange all my poetry books
alpha beta i can order theta all the way across
as many shelves as there are poets
in this tower of babel
and then
when the dust has settled
my fingers will tickle their spines
their promises of forever down
the string theory of words
convolutions of thoughts opening
their minds to my inviting hands
gently down the steps
gently into the water
a gasp
and it’s all over me
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