1.
once a book must have fallen
from the sky so large
the people could not see
where its pages
ended it was an open
field the people could walk
their eyes and forget what brought
them to the field
was it the stubble mottled
with sunlight toward which all things
climb the ladder of themselves
or the wind from which all upright
things shy until the people
forgot it was a book at all
2.
once there was a book that leaned
over the people towering
they covered their genitals and breasts
and shrank from its shadow
some did others stayed
until they began to see the book
was a shield they could relax under
and avoid the swords of the sun
until chapter by chapter the people
stopped scanning its heights
and puttered in mushroom
gardens and slept into the afternoons
and then into evenings until
night was night and day
3.
but the third book the third
someone found on the very tip
of a child’s tongue the people
gathered with a magnifying glass
and letter by letter remade
small meanings until
the people tired it slipped
from that ledge of flesh
to the blades and spears
of grass and could not be found
among the mandibles of ants
this tiny book on the wronged tongue
hovered behind the head
shirred the ears with its midnight
hovered like a voice
unseaming a glass into shatter
one day rose on whatever
legs it grew gashed the throat
of sky and pages fell
pages tasting of metal and ash