If you come over, don’t look at the sofa 

Or the table

I’m not ready to show ‘ya

And don’t go into the den

You’ll be shocked at what I’ve been readin’

It’s more revealing than my Google searches

It’s where my big dream and reality merges 

They’re always strewn about 

You’ll see the bookmarks stickin’ out

They’re plopped open, highlighted 

Ahh, when you see it all, you might get excited 

A little fiction, some philosophy, a bit of theology

And practical how-tos for the first year 

Ah, my love for a cold, rainy Sunday here 

To dive in

It’s my predilection

And you haven’t even seen the bookshelf

It’s a burgeoning tree and a relic to my former self 

I wish I could read everything

I know you do too

But you’ve told me that living is kind of like reading 

It always helps if you can do some of the former first 

Sometimes books can keep ya from getting hurt

But you’ve also told me, in your wisdom, to not let them keep me from livin’

You came in my house, you saw my soul

The Alchemist, The Holy Bible, The Day the Revolution Began, What to Expect

You know my whole gist 

You know my past – did you see the yearbooks?

And my future is beckoning – see how just half my journal looks?

It’s blank 

Reading is living and maybe living is writing

All these words are too much

But don’t you agree, it’s exciting?

My brain’s everywhere

Oh look, an empty chair 

You can have a seat 

And grab a book you think is neat

We can talk it over 

…maybe next time you come over

Or, maybe I can come to your place 

And see what sort of literature awaits