Book Passion

I dreamed I was eating
A book.
It was made from 8″ by 12″ slabs
One inch deep.
It tasted like cheese
But cut like watercress.
As I chewed I understood.

As I looked around
Others were reading
The same title
But in the regular way
I couldn’t determine
Which was best,
Eyes only
Or digesting it my way.

Others began to notice me
And stare.
Made me feel queer.

I was in a restaurant though,
A fitting place to eat
And drink
So I ordered bourbon
And I kept on chewing.

I realized
Their eyes
Would never make them full.

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Book Passion