The Great Room
books collecting dust
as old winos sleep
and students try
to fill their heads
with knowledge
and inspiration comes
out from the dead
while want to be poets
read rejections
typed on form letters
inside a public place
proclaimed to be
the largest library
in the city of Chicago
and I sit at
the smallest table
and read the want-ads
that might lead me
to my next job
because currently
I’m fucked and
absorbing idle time
like everybody else...
poem by Charles Lara
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