(early) at the book fair
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in a large tall hall -- tables
on an old waxed parquet floor
not many here yet -- seems like
just us publishers authors
the authors sit and chat in twos
some sit alone and do not chat
one author in a hat sits plump
well -- fat -- bemused? bespectacled
i chat with a crusty john-wayne grandma-type
a faculty advisor in author-black
a gray mike royko-like bushy-brow author
a sweet-smilin big-guy spoken-word poet
with a ruddy organizer who's sweating
and with the down-on-the-farm john-wayne's daughter
and with that nasal assistant editor
a stick -- freckled! greeneyed hazeled gooselike. mmmmm.
will there be slender
sales today?
my cornucopia takes up a table
twenty-five titles in multiples gleam
a smiling swell of backyard tomatos
glimpsed from afar or enjoyed from within?
see? gleaming stacked neatly -- juicy meat
mounds and mounds and mounds and mounds
when the first bite and i exchange greetings
she lays her hands on the red
