Song for Future Books
The book is made of glass and I look through it and see more books. Many glass books. Is someone speaking? A muffled voice is telling me to make soup which I think means I am loved. What other kind of cup fills itself? Can there be a cup of cup? A cup of itself? Outside a black squirrel has wiggled to the end of a very skinny branch. When the squirrel breathes the whole tree shakes, as if the squirrel were the soul of the tree. Have you ever felt like such a tree? Not sayin’ I have.
About this Poem
"In the spring and summer of 2013, I was trying to write a series of short lyrics that merged observation and dreams. Each little poem would be dated and titled with a headline from the day's news. As often happens with poetry, my concept was hurting the integrity of the poems, so I needed to go back and change the titles of the poems—this one was originally called 'Fashion Spread with Women Dressed as Suicidal Women Writers Draws Ire.'"
Date Published: 2014-02-21
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/song-future-books