Bookstore

"Are you gonna be here next year?"
I ask, to myself,
looking your way.
"I hope so," I answer, both
for you and me, but lets's
be honest. How often can I come here—to the bookstore,
maybe I should check the event schedule,
maybe Tawada Yoko will be coming.
Maybe there'll be something going on outside
and I can come in
from the summer heat
and get a cold
drink...but bookstore's don't usually serve drinks,
do they? And I wouldn't expect you
to get me one
anyway.
Maybe I can buy pointless supplies
like pencils
and leave them in a drawer for years.
At least they'll be a memo to you,
post-its and notecards
filled with poems,
but devoid of meaning...

Or maybe I can return the Chinese books I bought today,
and then buy them back again.
Return, and purchase, return
and purchase, return and
purchase
until the state recognizes mutual ownership.
What will we do then?
Stick around for awhile?
That's what I thought.