Poem Therapy May 3, 2011 at 2:39 P.M.: The Libraries Didn't Burn - Elaine Equi

The Libraries Didn't Burn
Elaine Equi

despite books kindled in electronic flames.

The locket of bookish love
still opens and shuts.

But its words have migrated
to a luminous elsewhere.

Neither completely oral nor written —
a somewhere in between.

Then will oak, willow,
birch, and olive poets return
to their digital tribes —

trees wander back to the forest?

I will admit that I am ambivalent about the "luminous elsewhere". I love that there is so much content available via the Internet, that it's possible to read an e-book via kindle, nook, etc., but I love, no, I am obsessed with old fashioned paper bound books. My ADD kicks in something fierce when I read anything online. I skip and scan, click on pics in the margin, scroll all over the place, and just plain worry about what I'm missing out on the periphery or in the margins.

If I want to get every single word, really take the story in, I have to print it out, hold it in my hands, focus on the words unfolding line by line. I know there are others like me out there, those that truly like and embrace the ever increasing gaggle of new gadgets, but that love the old school experience of holding a book in hand and dropping out of the real time world to immerse oneself into another equally real world.

This obsessive love of books has brought me unlikely friends as well. One such friend, a former boss, died early this morning. He went in for 'routine' surgery eight days ago, it went badly, and today he's gone. Just like that.

I didn't like him one bit when I first met him. And I decided I wasn't ever going to like him, even if he was going to be my new boss. Why? Nothing other than he just rubbed me the wrong way. He tried cracking jokes. I remained stone-faced. Tried praise. I wasn't about to fall for that. I was the nut that would not be cracked, the castle that would not be conquered,(add your own metaphor and stir until well mixed - you get the idea). I held to my conviction to dislike him all my days, until he started to talk about books. Not just any books, but historical books and all the wild, meandering excursions of related stories, which lead to yet more books and wild, meandering excursions. And he was funny, irreverently funny.

Just goes to show that I can't hold the castle when faced with a smart man armed with a wicked sense of humor.

He was my boss for close to three years and I was sad to see him leave for greener pastures. For the past few years, we'd invariably run in to each other at some work-related function, and I could count on him updating me on his latest read.

I saw him a few weeks ago. I'm glad I hugged him.