Books flap easily to the ground.
Golden wind rages around us
The chicken novels peck at my surface
Pollen bookmarks flutter to my side
The meadow library holds what every villain pledges to kill.

Wuthering heights, oh withering laws, “equal” rights
Brave new world, hold tight to every belief now unfurled
Fahrenheit four-fifty-one, montague’s dead now, hold to no one
Kill a mockingbird, hear the chill in the songbirds’ word
A tree grows in brooklyn,     they chopped it down…

Every word’s fought a war worse than Lee ever imagined
Hot breath carved the way, palm sweat, empty blisters
If you dare to feel Steinbeck’s hurt envy, cruel passion
Stop by the meadow, and don’t be deceived
For every page ‘home’ on these shelves
Came here bereaved.