Sly, brittle slice blinks incessantly;
would-be despot descendant of Kutubiyyin,
its faux leather sheath sticky in the palms.

Spineless, synthetic, its flickering backlit,
tick-inducing, fake flaxen pages,
a shallow, kindled substitute

for lutescent vellum, letterpressed
to breast in the smooth creamy wash
of an elegant anglepoise lamp.

Acid leaks, yet beautifully bound, it
sits serene on the solid beech shelf,
just out of reach; protected.



Filed under Free Verse, Poetry

2 responses to “Safe

  1. This really is a beautifully adept way of looking at reading … picking out the clinical and the organic qualities of both the Kindle and ‘real’ books is so gracefully achieved. Love this one for all its meanings and the creativity behind it…

  2. Perfect. I agree with all its sentiments.

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