Book Store Blues
an imposing figure stalks on the edges of delirium
saturday spinning, lemon limelights blinding blinds on the windows
nightly, new novels are deposited in the collective library of knowledge
daily, she dies another death. drugs? no, disappointment
she is only one
lifting pages, gently sobbing
blue snow, magical mysteria
he approaches without a hint of awkwardness
an honest offer of his hand, a book
“for you”
but she is only one
not fooled by charlatan authors or the cult of cliche compendiums
blue snow, blue glittering covers of fine quality paper
with a quick twist, she rips it away from the rest of him
turns to page two hundred twenty thousand infinite million and one
snow blue, ice blue
ice blue eyes staring right at you
blood runs through his hands like water, the man is never satisfied, the man,
the man is the magical mysteria of this world
she sees through his arctic facade
she must fade to cool one day to love him but we have a problem
she sees through man and his cliche capitalist compendium
same blue girl, same blue guy, never a spark of red in sight
but for her blaze of isolation
include her. include her. the man leans in for one last seductive whisper
her tears cannot freeze to icicles, instead morph into flame
he has a dagger in his hand. can she apprehend him?
for her people are quashed underneath the weight of blue man, blue woman and the like
not a red, yellow, green, in sight, but the lemon limelight blinding blinds shine from the crimson warriors’ hearts
across the sea, they’re just called criminals
not individuals
she is not the only one, we are legion, we are many,
we are lemon limelight, melt through
the snow white and snow blue
the true magical mysteria of this world
stalking on the edge of normality, the delirium called normality
saturday seeking, to enter humanity, with humility, modesty
justice and love, love and love and love and love
and in two hundred twenty thousand infinite million and one days, months, years, milliseconds, mayhaps decades
the dagger is pulled from his hand. he is apprehended
free is she and she is free to roam the pages of new novels
deposited in the library of knowledge, little reflections of what she sees in herself
and in two hundred twenty thousand infinite million and one days, months, years, milliseconds, mayhaps decades more,
she will not be only one
she will be hand in hand
reddish hue and reddish hue, not cliche capitalist compendium cursed blue
she and she will be free and free
she will be free and free will be she, with her
and her mother will say to she, for the justice and love, love and love and love and love of she and her,
in humanity, in humility and in modesty,
“my daughter loves you, which means you are also my daughter.
for better or worse, you are a part of our family.”
e.l.s 2021
Disclaimer-
This was originally a “found” poem written for English class; meaning many small bits of this poem were inspired by phrases or words found in books. All of these words and phrases were recycled into something different, with the exception of the last line, which struck me so deeply I decided to keep it as it was. This line is from The Shadow of Kyoshi by F. C. Yee, spoken by the character Hei-Ran to the girl her daughter has fallen in love with — no spoilers!