She Pads Across The Reading Room By Michael S. Walker

She pads across the reading room
And I cannot read a word
The gist here, I know she will be going soon
 
She pads in shirt a pop-art bloom
And I would like to touch her Androsia skirt
When she pads across the reading room
 
Call me Ishmael, call me doom
The lilt of that ass is quite absurd
The gist here, I know she will be going soon
 
Let’s send these words to the implacable moon
Give me Machiavelli on how to flirt
When she pads across the reading room
 
Self-possessed the Dewey Decimal booms
King Ubu would say “merde”
The gist here, I know she will be going soon
 
This villanelle it sings no tune
The fragments of Sappho in the dirt
She pads across the reading room
The gist I know, she will be going soon

Michael Walker is a writer living in Newark, Ohio. He is the author of two published books: 7-22 and The Vampire Henry. He has also seen his stories and poems published in various magazines including Adelaide Literary, PIF, and Fiction Southeast.

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