If I swallow myself, will I forever preserve all of the books I have read and not read?
If the read books go straight through me, will the not-read books be digested slowly?
If the words are sifted and sorted into the ordered files of my inner being, can they be
mixed up; mixed up and spat out; spat out into all of the poems I have still to write?
Copyright owned by Jay Cool, February 2019
Inspiration borrowed from the poem ‘Hon or We have both traveled from the other side of some hill, one side of which we may wish we could forget’ by Anis Mojgani.
The Silly-Savvy Salopian in Suffolk: read, believe and write ... 