designer journals

I was smiling off 
the fragments of 
a lingering joke
as I was passing thru
a mega bookstore

somewhere along
I slammed the brakes
stood up straight
stepped backwards
to face a wall
covered with fancy 
journal books

the leather smelled 
like garlic bulbs 
inside a sweaty 
old sock

‘Designer Journals’ 
so ornate
so rustic
so gaudy
nostalgic
glitter on maps
and other opulence
engraved on soft covers
with metal clasps
and fancy straps
each one resting firm
upon the wooden shelf
like God’s own diary
of himself

I stood churning 
my perplexion 
wondering who 
these people are
who actually think 
they have thoughts
and things to say 
about themselves
that might be worthy
of such brazen
ostentation
the whole thing 
bothered me
I had to write it down
I pulled a coffee-stained 
bent and battered pad
(wide-ruled, hard-back)
from my tattered backpack
and wrote this 
on the carpet kneeling
in that spot
Thanks for reading!
____ _____ _____
Check out my NEW Collection of Poetry:
Diamonds Mixed with Broken Glass
Available at Amazon: HERE

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