COOL OF THE LIBRARY
Though we were hopeful to think not a thing.
The cool of the library called again.
Daylight swoops through these windows everyday.
But even here, something prevents calm
and ensures more ghastly novelty.
Because there are more pretty girls than none.
And you know the rules but don't think they count
This is your furlow.
The one with the pretty eyes that don't blink.
Come to read.
Even the sky is just another highway here.
Not municipal, but marked for the public.
And not public in the perjorative. But public.
Like our faces, which are both instruments that
examine and objects that signal.
Pass, stay, pass, please, stay, thank you, good
The most dangerous animal in the world examines
She sits opposite you. There is an onramp,
but the laws won't have you standing on it.
A nice day, the homeless men sit in the public
In the airy room, men and women study the fruits
of every deprivation.
Driven to, not by abstruse pleasures.
Troubled, she veils her eyes and writes with tiny
It's not the real dictionary.
There's some kind of eating going on
at the bottom of every page.