September 23, 2005
Every now and again, my brain gets
turned upside-down; all the books
on all the shelves return to chaos.
these bits and pieces of thought
and imagination, keeping track of all
I might lose otherwise.
Thank God they’re in books, bound
at the spine, not loose-leaf, free
floating on the wind of my subconscious.
even when my world is shaken, and the
books fall to the floor, I know that
this and this and this will still be found
in some semblance of order. I have only
to pick up the books, flatten their pages,
alphabetize (or numericize, whichever
suites my fancy this particular go-round)
and replace them on the appropriate shelf.
My brain is such a wonder;
such a pain. I am getting better at
this, though, with every
chaos-inducing crisis that comes to call.