Went to the library again
because I love libraries
and because I love books
which are there on the shelves
for everyone equally
only this time I notice again
fewer books
and I startle myself
at the way the world’s become
some maybe good things
expanded children’s room
more space on the floor
little desks
with little computers
for little fingers
and next door
a teen room
labeled “Teen Room”
and carefully curated
young adult books
easy enough to read
written for today’s language
and fewer reference books
because the internet
and in the Teen Room
the older kids at tables
facing the computers
fingers on the keys
one in the corner
reading a book
and I walk down the library shelves
afraid to look
to not see
so many of the books I read
when I was young
now evaporating from my life
and the teens next door
will never know
and I’m tired of re-realizing
that the classics aren’t all equal
I want to go sit and talk
with the current young
what school do you go to?
do your teachers take
you beyond yourself?
I see the comic book Shakespeare
and the real text dusty
on the shelf never checked out
and I want to cry at the loss
and I cry to the air
“Who can I talk to about this?”
and the Librarian
maintaining the stereotype
comes over and says
“Shhh!”