McDonald’s Dirty, Poorly Lit Place for Books

1 Minute Read Time

This photograph shows a poorly lit place of what seems to be chairs, tables, within a room of sorts.
The counterman says Welcome back— 
he’s never seen our faces.
If you want poetry, look in history.
Three floors of Popular Mechanics and ruin.
Nothing’s been shelved since Reagan
took the oath. Across the street,
sliver boys pander outside a bar
called The Peter Pan. You know,
my brother says, for fairies.

Back in the stacks, deeper in dust,
the local politics finds a refuge,
safe haven for anarchist cookbooks,
the tracts of revolutionaries. I don’t know
where to start. Books come here to die,
the counterman says. A single match
sets this place ablaze. My brother hands me
a book about a time of dirt and anger,
and the title sounds how I once imagined us:
upright, serious, and open.
Let Us Now Praise Famous Men.

Read more from Issue 17.1.

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