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Shelf of Books

I want a shelf for books,

only,

yea, a bookshelf.

But not just a bookshelf

tucked into the corner

where the door is

that I never open

to the cracked patio.

There is already a door

to the outside in here.

In here there are three doors,

two windows, and a door frame

that lost its door

a century, no a half century

ago when the add-on

was added on.

I want to put

just books on that bookshelf,

just,

books.

Make Me a Prayer

Make me into an image

of refined ethereal

light and ghostly

tender, mallable

make me a scion of

beneficial abundance

goddess glowing

benevolent, caring 

turn me to good and

banish the calcium

forming in my heart

jealousy and evil

spite and spit

take me quickly to

forgiveness and court

tender and

malleable

light and

ghostly

No longer 

I no longer want to be the newspaper in your birdcage

The plastic liner under your dishes

The coaster on the table

Allowing your life to over-write mine

Can’t be the I’m-bored-curer

The I-got-nothing-to-do companion

Cruise director extraordinaire

For the dream voyage I'll never take.  

Conflicted and possessive

Off loading and teasing

You suggest they all want me

Hoping they do and I go. 

Meanwhile I tidy up the menagerie 

Stack the pantry neatly

And wipe down the console proudly 

Preparing for your departure.