Monday, November 26, 2007

Poem #330 of 365

As the bottle empties, my belly expands,
and I am pregnant with suds
in the sleek dark night, and I wonder
about trade-offs and
more significant siphonings
and apportionings,

as when the mailbag empties and becomes
less burdensome on the postman's shoulder
while our mailboxes swell with bills,
and the gasoline fuel burns out of a car to
exhaust to zero, and as the refrigerator,
once well-stocked, now holds two jars
of pickled things--and camera film.

But an open book, in the hands of a
studious child, only the book can
feed and fuel and give and emit,
filling a mind, enlarging an intellect,
without itself thinning, emptying, lessening.

It is the vessel that stands fresh with
water for the brain, every day, every page,
like an ever-youthful generous sage.

A book forever fruits.

copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez

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