Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Every Writer's Child

For some it's the squeak of an old hinge which sets them off
everytime someone enters or exits the kitchen

or perhaps how the toilet paper roll was hung,
adding to an already dubious, rump-filled fate.

Of course, those odd creatures who see even more backsides,
politicians, will make just about anyone's blood boil.

I tote no special immunity to any of these chafes
but there's something worse still if you ask me

*and you haven't*

to watch helplessly as a brave book is consumed
by an uncaring soul who just wants to beat it's secrets from it,

clutched in both hands, a mad grin, eyes positively flashing,
ripping through hundreds of pages, months...years of

some poor author's life devoured in a matter of hours,
left limp and lifeless on a chair somewhere thereafter.

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