Fearing the boredom
looming at noon,
the Worm booked a day trip
as day-trippers do,
fleeing emotions
and choking foursquare,
–peeling back membrane
between here and there–
uniting the twain
with gossamer pages,
escaping the plain
with focal point changes,
shooting the gap
inherent in pauses,
discovering worlds
in well-written clauses,
building a bridge
in bricks made of chapters,
scanning the span
to new ever after,
dog-earring tomes
in paper boat kinks…
a see-faring roam
which vessel was ink…
paddling boat
tethered to Hook, the
Worm was transformed
by virtue of book,
finishing Kafka
delighted to find
–wings had developed
around his behind–
& broadened horizons
far, wide and high!
revealing the Bookworm’s
inner B-fly.
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