Each reader is another look.
Finer readers take second looks.
The best readers are second looks.
They have reimagined the book.
The book was hauled out of the woods.
Cured and cut to pulp, it grew hard
To read the forest in the words.
Who could sense where the book once stood?
The book can’t answer your complaints.
It can’t correct readers’ mistakes.
Zhuangzi laughed. Plato hated that.
The book rolled free into the lake.
The book is a witch. Look, it floats.
It bobs along. It even grows.
The lines fan out like rows of boats
Trailing hooks. Can you read? It knows.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.