Poem

Pulp

Coffee table doorstop tips the scales at

nearly seven pounds of high grade paper

bearing photos full of heartbreak, beauty,

irony, three legs of a stool bearing

the weight of our short run on the planet.

Should we conclude that truth is sold by the

pound, turning a blind eye to the thumb on

the scale? I close the book, Elmore Leonard,

sixteen ounces give or take one or two,

four of them would fit just so inside the

glossy doorstop. Heartbreak, beauty and more

than a drop of irony in a pulp

full of double crossers, saints and sinners.