σωφροσύνη ~ Tuesday, June 24, 2025

ὁρίζων κύκλος

Not every book I pick up is worthwhile
only the ones that make me smile, I read
the whole feed from start to finish, I wish

every book ran with me mile after mile
verily, I read what I can, I scan
each week, the shelves at the bookstore, the need
readily without argument to dish
yet another novel, hell-bent with lust

burning a hole in my wallet, a fan
of world literature, there is no cure
only snake oil, the quackery of fraud
kill me before blindness makes my mind pure

Imagine, I could fly with just a gust

picks me up off the ground but loaded down
in my backpack, a library, the wind
cannot lift this flying squirrel, quarrel
kindly, or not at all, so small and brown

under the weight of the world, an ocean
presents schools of fish as knowledge, rescind

intelligence for ignorance, barrel
stock full of dill pickles, to munch and crunch

worth the sea in salt, is it all my fault
or as bananas travel in a bunch
reasons become black and blue by default
travel on occasion makes emotion
hard to understand, as ancient wisdom
works cauliflower ears, punch drunk from fights
hit the books while I can, there on the shelf
if I should find myself, my name, how dumb
like a celebrity caught in the lights
each neon sign states the phrase, "Know thyself"

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