These Are My JOTtings...

The Book Validates

The lady struts her reader stuff
a-marching down my aisle,
"I'll chew no light and mushy fluff!"
retort she spews awhile.

"O, Dance my way! I claw thy eyes!
My cover shimmers gold!"
To jump at her in rare surprise
by glittered fonts quite bold.
I fly. Her stare I hold.

She yanks me from the carpet floor.
No Milquetoast book, today!
With card she parries! Bar the door!
Devour my words! Obey!

"At once I stand. I am a book.
Attending ev'ry morn.
"Do readers see me? Take one look?
Know whence my words were born?"

That sluiced Past in torrent's Time.
Today, whitewater roils!
She jaunts and trots to homestead's clime.
She plops with tea and book uncoils.

Each page she soaks with briny tears,
a curled uncurling march.
I dance inside! I strow my fears!
I swim in Joy, unparched!

"This grips my heart! It throws me 'round!
This book o'er all guffaws!
"The name it slaps, me shreds to ground!
Can't breathe! Smothered in its furry paws!"

My title wrestles readers' minds.
My writer quenched and still.
Consume my words in light that blinds
with grasping hope to thrill!

"Z is for Zenith!" cry lingual gasp,
stomping Streets of Gold.
Furious fingers tale unhasp,
The truth exposed quite bold.
Sue Grafton's book, Saint Peter's grasp,
sentimental voices told.

Imagination, wrench the arms!
And seize the hopeful Day!
Her final book and cultured charms
now vanished from display.

The lady struts her reader stuff
a-marching down the street,
"I'll never type light, mushy fluff!"
her golden smile replete.

by Jay O'Toole
on January 15th, 2018