And the Word -- Richard Jones

(Poem #62)And the Word I find things inside books borrowed from the library— foreign postcards, rose petals, opera tickets, laundry lists, and, once, a bloody piece of cloth.  Today, inside a volume of Cid Corman's elegant poetry, a snapshot— a man in a dark nightclub embracing a red-haired stripper.  The man grabs the woman brashly about her waist, displaying her nakedness to the camera. The flash illumines the man's flushed face, his single-minded lust as he bends to touch his tongue to her nipple,  while she, arching her back, coolly turns to the camera, her face flooded with light, as if asking, "So, what do you think  about the book you're reading now?" -- Richard Jones