Lines on a Used Book
The man who sold this book to me
said, "The book, it comes as is."
Standing before the college library
it became my possession, leaving his.
Whoever owned this book before me
broke its spine and wore it worse
as they read this poem repeatedly,
leaving pencil lines beneath the verse.
But whoever owned it prior to me
marked every foolish passage and
made notes I don't want friends to see
and think them written in my hand;
or that they note importance, in this poem, to me,
because the chosen parts are worn and trite,
including parts I don't want friends to see
that I've re-underlined, because they're right.
by Gordon White
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Gordon White lives in New York and is a connoisseur of good beer, terrible haircuts, and tasteful plaids. Although his poetry has appeared around the Web, the last time he read an actual printed journal was at his mother's house over the holidays. She also doesn't know how to use her iPhone and she still gets her internet from AOL. She hasn't seen The Wire, either. Get a clue, Mom! Anyway, to visit him in a world without limits (well, character limits), check out www.grizzlyspectacles.com.