If I Were a Bookstore

If I were a bookstore

It would be round
like the shape of two elbows, resting on the arms of a chair,
linked by the open pages
of a book.

Organization would be key.
On one side would be the sunshine books.
Like the morning,
Like the summer,
Like the heat rising off the asphalt,
Like skin, bronze,
Like the fairground,
Like the beach,
Like a veranda with a cold glass of lemonade,
Like a journey,
for good measure,
through the amazon.

On another side would be the misty books.
Like British accents,
Like broomsticks and potions,
Like thick, woolen overcoats,
Like memories and tears,
Like rosy cheeks,
Like steam rising from a cup,
Like cloaks and pixie dust,
Like umbrellas and fire places,
And for good measure,
Like Scottish accents, too.

On another side would be the shiny books.
Like helicopters,
and cities lit up like the stars.
Like indestructible space ships
and EXPLOSIONS.
Like galaxies,
Like fathomless beings,
Like unforeseen variables,
Like a volcano,
for good measure,
just before the apocalypse.

And in the middle,
for a measure better than most,
would be everything else.

Because a good book
can always be
something else.


*This is an original poem by Kateri Ransom and is made possible by Random Words and Thoughts that Come out of Kateri's Mouth Corp. Haven't heard of it? That's because I made it up. Just now. Just like this poem. Happy Friday, everyone!