Overheard in the library A cacophony of clicks Symphony of scratches and shushes Conductors leading the orchestra with their white noise batons. Take it apart. Tear the notes from the pages Hear the gasp of a weary reader Too much vibrato for the waitlist Clock their staccato intake As they jump the line As the shelf sings to her An aria.

rustling tik tak toks and printers rebooting whispers and giggles and shushes hidden away in 400 - 499 cozy in a nook of languages

Overheard in the library Two friends yapping with each other Book open, pens down If I saw them in the library any other day I don’t think I would see them at all For they did not seem Inclined to bear their own silence But for the days they came, they came together Though they didn’t seem to get any work done There was always excited chattering to be expected Overheard in the library A frantic tapping of keys One lone boy muttering Whispers of wonderings I wondered what he was typing I wondered if the key to his thinking His brain turning with ideas and words At a lightening speed Was tied with his solitude For he was on most days, alone Overheard in the library Words of comfort Spoken from one librarian to the other They had spent almost everyday I was here -Which was quite frequent Working harmoniously together Checking in the books Helping the members And bickering on who had the more original idea For the display self Today was not most days as I overheard muffled sobbing But like most days her partner librarian Was right behind her, Today with whispering of ‘it’ll be okay’ And soothing rubs on her back Instead of her usual stack I never knew how I would witness such glimpses Of other peoples lives Before I began visiting my preferred sitting spot Before I ever, overheard anything in the library

about morning and good morning that describes the sunrise and flowers and explains what we should do in the morning, such as brushing our teeth, washing our face, eating breakfast, kissing our mother's face, and feeling happy and energetic. poem about morning and good morning that describes the sunrise and flowers and explains what we should do in the morning, such as brushing our teeth, washing our face, eating breakfast, kissing our mother's face, and feeling happy and energetic.

Conchita debemos to speak totalmente in English cuando we go into Sears okay     Por qué Porque didn’t you hear lo que pasó     It say on the eleven o’clock news anoche que two robbers was caught in Sears and now this is the part I’m not completely segura que I got everything porque channel 2 tiene tú sabes that big fat guy that’s hard to understand porque his nose sit on his lip like a elefante pues the point es que the robbers the police say was two young men pretty big y one have a hairy face and the other is calvo that’s right he’s baldy and okay believe me qué barbaridad porque Hairy Face and Mister Baldy goes right into the underwear department takes all the money from the caja yeah uh-huh the cash register and mira Mister Baldy goes to this poor Italian woman that I guess would be like us sixty o sixty-five who is in the section of the back-support brassieres and he makes her put a big bra over her head para que she can’t see nothing and kneel like she’s talking to God to save her poor life and other things horrible pero the point como dije es que there was two of them and both was speaking Spanish y por eso is a good thing Conchita so the people at Sears don’t confuse us with Hairy and Baldy that we speak English only okay ready                   Oh what a nice day to be aquí en Sears Miss Conception

Leaving. The door bristles with the wind’s brush. Anti-hero? You tell me what? I am the way out the door when you verbal whip comes to play. I’m the problem. Why? I love love. I bleed for my fellow Americans. I bleed purple, the mixture of red and blue. We have to merge to diverge. Tea? He didn’t fuck his patient. Should that not be enough? Tell you my secrets? Was it love? It was music. It was control. All in effort to get away? Where is our last dance? Discard me and travel. Alone at last. Reader, I cannot tell you why I was too much for him. My problems? I carry them. My secrets? I carry them. The weight bearing down like the Dow Jones. Rain outside? Can I stay longer? I promise I will be quiet. Not! Sunshine bright, rain pouring through. Hand me the damn Umbrella RHI! Everything together. No more isolation. No more secrets. I choose connection. You choose you. I choose me. Perfection does not exist Wink. Your sun. I want. Your treatment? I emailed you today. Ssh. Another secret to keep. To be a fly on this wall. The library walls bleed secrets.

A library scene Dead quiet, but then a laugh From the ladies’ room

Her eyes Caught mine The silence Entwined between the shelves Reduced to This one moment I blink And she’s gone She’s running To her home To her world To someone who isn’t me I catch Their whispers: “How about I take you to dinner?” “Sure! I’d love that.” The smile in her voice Breaks a sacred rule Screaming in my mind They leave And I don’t realize The binding I’d ripped

I walked towards the library To pick up a new book But as I turned the corner I didn’t like the look Of people crowded inside I could overhear their chatter I picked up on the word “closing” And clearly it would matter And then again I heard that word Coming from my right I saw a sad librarian It wasn’t a pleasant sight I asked her what was happening Why she felt so low And then that’s when she spoke the words “Soon this place will go”

A favorite place the expectation of solitude but not today They are thinking so loudly Don’t they know the unwritten rule of silence? Older man: I woke up next to my cold, dead wife Child: I want to read good Young Woman: What I would give to not be barren! Teenage Boy: Why do I have feelings for him? Elderly Woman: The money won’t buy me time I want to tell them although pain runs deep it reminds us that we are still alive Surviving Instead I hear myself say nothing My attempted escape from reality was elusive Maybe tomorrow . . .