At the Small Press Fair
Detour in October
to the basement
of the old brick church
on Bloor.
Breathe in the must
delight in the dust
that covers the floor
that you stand on
dizzy with verse
as you linger
from table to table
where pedlars are selling
at dime-store prices
what is free.
Euphony cacophony
imagery simile
metaphor metonym
assonance consonance dissonance
alliteration allusion
repetition personification
onomatopoeia caesura
catachresis mimesis
rhythm rhyme.
The bards at their booths
vulnerable eccentric
resilient didactic
converse chat
their folios on display
assorted stacked scattered
handwrought with profound thought
for you to thumb through
and buy for your reading pleasure
intrigue anguish devotion
revolution.
Typed text
inked words
line leaves of vellum
loose-leaf tissue glossy
waxed and watermarked papers
where meanings feelings
cryptic rational absurd sublime
pound and float on pages minimal
that hide between covers
stapled and saddle-stitched.
Couplets sonnets
limericks lyrics
soliloquys eulogies
ballads odes
elegies epics
pastorals villanelles.
In this timeless space
time has passed
no clock on the wall
you the flâneur ascend
the creaky mahogany stairs
exit onto the street
your feet wandering
to a measured beat
a small bundle of anthologies
tucked in the crook of your elbow
the russet sunset
staring you in the eye
a yellow leaf underfoot
in the dark chill air
the world opens up to you
like a poetry chapbook.