I sit on the window seat
The world at my feet
And walk through the portal of my choice
There’s swashbuckling and danger
Flying in sailboats
Swimming through gold
And sliding down rainbows

Shall I learn witchcraft
or solve a murder?
Would it be fun to time travel
Or better to teleport?
Will the hero conquer? Will evil loose-
BUMP- I walk into reality, head first
Yep, that’s going to bruise.

People hustle to class, books in tow
Smiling about the weekend
Where swordplay does not meet them, but shopping
Gee whiz, how exciting!
The heroes in my mind
melt away to ordinary passersby
The comic reliefs
nothing but a kid shouting a bad joke
The perfection in flaws lost
The purity in the main character’s soul gone

Finally I get the chance
To visit John Green and Rick Riordan
Violins sing as the climax peaks
He lifted his hand and-
“Cameron, why are you reading in class?”
The book whimpers in thorough sadness
As it is torn from my thirsty eyes
Come on, teachers, don’t you see?
I’m putting it out of its misery!

Try to eat, but I can’t look away
Which will get soggy first…
The story or my Cheerios?
I give in when milk spills on the cover.

Here’s the last page-
The dregs of the book
The Breakfast Club-fist pump
The lines that will trickle through your mind
every spare moment of your time

The Author’s note
Though you could tell it was coming
It’s like a high-five
in the face
with a chair
I sit for a moment, yearning for more
Like a dog sitting patiently for a bone

Than I ponder
Which book will be
my next secret garden?