Sometimes while reading All readers fall asleep. Their eyes close and For twenty, thirty minutes The world goes on without Them. When they awake, Confused for a few Moments, they can’t Recall where they left off, Where exactly on the even Or the odd numbered pages They had stopped reading, Nodded off, and let the book Fall, its weight too much To command. When they awake They may also, momentarily, Forget their place in the world, Where it was they had Abdicated all responsibility For matters of state or that Class (soon to start) of twenty-five Fifteen year old boys, eager For something, but not for Reading. The book in The reader’s hand, falls Face down and flat upon A gently rising and falling Stomach. It remains the same, But has all else in this restless, Frantic world changed?
