so many books
on my reading list,
and each one
i’m so
so
excited
to crack open/
to get lost in the world/
to be absorbed by the story/
to learn facts and histories
and processes
that will make me rethink
just about everything/
to have a topic
to rehash with friends and spouses/
or bring up to folks
i think would love it —
and while i may be a faster reader
than a majority of american adults,
i’m slower than tortoise paced
when compared with
the human i live with/
who shares this house
full of stacks of books
for me to read/
and they’ve read them all
it seems/
so i’m trying not to get discouraged
as i watch the stack
grow
(for they show their love
by buying me
more and more and more
books)
but even with the tower
of my ‘to read’ pile
climbing much higher
than i am tall
(though, as a shorty,
that’s not hard at all)
i love books
so much so
that i can’t help
but still be
so
so so so
excited
to read them all

[eventually]