oneiroi…

it had been years
since he’d
shared a room
with a man
indeed
for 50 years
she had been
by his side
each night
how
clearly
he could still hear
her turning pages
as she read
late
into
the night
sometimes
dozing off
with the book
opened
and
propped upright
as if reading
with
closed eyelids
any attempt
at removing the book
garnered words
of denial
of sleeping
then
the shuffling of more pages
before the nightlight
was permitted
to sleep
however
his new roommate
preferred
old black and white movies
with
the sound set
to compensate
for the hearing aids
so neatly
stored in his desk
so as to save them
for
a special occasion
no doubt
his own funeral
so many changes
not only roommates
but
once great books
provided the escape
from life’s harshness
but now
it was
sleeping
more preciously
dreaming
for in dreams
you can be wherever
you wish
and
these constraints
of life
are
mere delusions
so
there’s no need
to
discern
night
from
day
except
when
she
comes
to
visit

cult of the paperback readers…

cult of the paperback readers

your
tailored-fitted
dresses
don’t seem
to fit
so well
these days
and
your quest
for
cheap
novel romance
seems
to have
blank pages
instead of
romantic lines
of
prolonged
passionate nights
nights
where you
could
have
transcribed
in the margins
the finer
moments
of
your
existence
pages
that
seem
very wrinkled
now
as if
the lies
told
have
rained down
the tears
of
heaven