LIBRARY

Stuffy smell of mouldering leather,

Tattered arm-chairs, creaking doors,

Books that slovenly elbow each other,

Sown with children's scrawls and long

Worn out by contact with generations:

Tattered tramps displaying yourselves —

“We, though you broke our backs, did not complain.”

If I had my way,

I would take you out and bury you quickly,

Or give you to the clean fire.