Monday, June 13, 2011

On Reading Books

I can’t just
Read a book
Any more
At least
Not in
The conventional way
And never from
Just beginning to end
Rather
I dive into them
As if they were
Olympic sized pools
I ravage them
I read them
Backwards to front
And vice versa
Or I jump in
In the middle
If I fear to swim
In waters
Above my head
I need to
Fondle them
To makes notes
In them
To fold their pages
To physically
Mark my place
To stick my
Book marks
In them
Whether
They were
Engraved in leather
Or ripped from
A post it pad

And I can
Hardly read
A so-called
E book
Or digital book
At all
Although
I champion
The new formats
Kindle
I pad
Nook
I phone
PC
I books
As ways
For unknown
Authors
To get
Published
Especially
Since
The establishment
Publishing houses
The brick and mortar
Publishers
Have little or no
Interest in
New or
Unpublished
Writers
I recognize
That the brick and mortar
Crowd
Are on their way
To extinction
Like the dinosaurs
Of yore
Only it didn’t take
A gigantic meteor
Or comet
To blow them
Away
All it took
Was a new idea
Whose time
Has apparently
Come
Personally
I need
A good old fashioned
Book
Consisting
Of cover
Paper
Binder
And
Glue
That I can
Hold in my hands
And
Fold over my chest
As I doze off
For a nap
I need to be able
To feel the pages
Between my fingers
I need to be able
To know
What a book
Feels like
Smells like
Tastes like
I need to be able
To make copious
Notes in the margins
To underline
Important words
And sublime passages
To be able
To gallop
Though the pages
And chapters
Back and forth
From beginning
To end and
Back again
To me a book
Becomes a companion
A friend
A partner in crime
A confidant
A co-conspirator
A fellow traveler
A new world
A new universe
A new ocean
In which to dive
And swim
To explore
To ravage
And pillage
To rip out pages
In a fit of rage
If I find the writing
Infuriating
Or irritating
Printed books
Are living things
They breathe
And sing
And chant
And postulate
They hold court
And they demand
Space
A fitting place
To be displayed
Along with the rest
Of my collection
Where they line
Every inch of
Book shelf
Between
My endless supply of
Ordinary and fancy
Bookends
Lined up like
Soldiers
For parade review
Ready to go into
Action
At a moment’s notice
Read me!
Pick me!
Hold me!
Caress me!
Don’t forget me!
Books the size
And weight of
Bricks
Bricks with which
To build my
Castles in the air

I hardly think
That you can
Do all that
With just
A kindle
Or a
Nook

jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa 2011

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