Don’t be scared by the buffalo
hide, with head and horns perilously attached,
or the hooded monastery scribe
mannequin—they are only freak shows interrupting
the glamorous performance—
a rich variety of plumaged beauties
with exquisite clothes and fancy titles—
books in their prime!
On a narrow street, near a university,
an archaic boudoir
of knowledge and serendipity
which can trace its lineage
back to the woodblock printing—
books from here are neither for reading,
nor for decorating, but for hoarding—
pieces of long lost mosaics
perfectly fit in the grand scheme
of your packed out, smartass labyrinth.