Literature
Here’s an undated poem from a couple months ago
I am getting into
literature
in a big way. The house is strewn
with laid-down magazines, periodicals
of every description. I must buy them
subconsciously, signing up online or by mailing
the innumerable blow-in ads (free postage) or maybe
they buy themselves, me coming home with my travel bag
packed with creased copies of famous titles that will
litter the house, not so much discarded
as paused mid-sentence, the ideas the words contain
face-down trapped by glossy paper pressing its weight
against any convenient surface