Susan Scutti
it’s the library where you are
the littlest pea embedded
within a complex theory of pods
last night you touched her
while now you sit alone
groping a plastic keyboard
the printer printing out your thesis
makes a sound like marching soldiers
heads empty of introspection
the woman’s voice
skips towards you across tables
laid out like ponds
scholars sigh as they bend toward
the glowing faces of beloved
computer screens
This made me think of Emerson’s views on scholarly endeavors…another well crafted poem.