poem

I turned the page so slowly
I needed to see if I could do it again
alike, is the masses
I failed
and so again I repeat;
and the other two of me came over
to try

-M. Taggart

poem

show me something to think
a piece of stone
brittle
crushed with teeth
with the sound of memories
rinsing all

-M. Taggart

for the love of books

I love to read.

Yesterday I purchased two used books from a very used bookstore
Hemingway and Steinbeck

I lazily tossed both on top of a shelf in my office
Maybe I’ll read them at the same time

One cubby hole down sits Bukowski
which happens to be next to a few book that I’m published in

and on the floor, near my right foot, The Unabridged
Edgar Allan Poe. That’s literally the name of the book

In back of my chair is a box that I have yet to completely unpack
In the box are a number of books, books, books.

On my desk sits Final Harvest, Emily Dickinson
It’s impossible for my person to become bored

oh, and I just found Papa, A Personal Memoir written by
Gregory H. Hemingway, M.D. in back of the monitor

I could clean my office but the life would be sucked out of the
otherwise very empty room

I don’t think I’ll do that. Hell, I haven’t even mentioned what’s in the dry sink.

Personal space is a beautiful thing, if we let it be.

-M. Taggart