What you do
Is pick up a book
Read it-but just part of it
Then you roll it up and put it
Of your jeans
Or you stick it in your backpack
Where it jauntily
Sticks out
You read it in pieces
And think about it
Let it get dogeared
Don’t worry about the coffee or whiskey stains
That create patterns of interest
On the well read pages
That you can trace your finger over
And remember the moment it dripped
You let the intention of the book
Find it’s way
Into your thoughts.
Yeah.
That’s what you do.