designer journals

Dan Kent
Dan Kent
Oct 21, 2017 · 2 min read

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
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
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

Dan Kent

Written by

Dan Kent

I'm so abstract automatic doors at grocery stores don't open for me.

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