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paco orello - hayward, ca. (USA):
April 09, 2001:
this is Thee book of HUMAN ANATOMY-my friend the witchdoctor uhm Made
Me buy it - my cats they claw This Book when i
lay it down forgetting to shelve it & weirdly, rub their face
cheeks against its ungainly wrecktangle! the woman i'm currently in negotiations with-
to add her all to mine(VICE VERSA! he meekly edited- WISELY! she
said) crosses herself at the very sight of This Book!
this books cover has a picture of a MANS body (legs and
arms outstretched!-or is that beseeching? now akimbo?)against an azure cloudless sky-This Book!
has an owners plate glued to the front leaflet- but who is?
return to who knows? & how do i find her/him? because of
these questions & the subsequent uproar by a certain hamfisted feminista!! This
Books now sportin' an arrow thru its frontplate!- text! - backplate! clean
right through!...
This Book is now bleeding black and white drippings on to my
(o.k. i admit it *gauche*) red carpet forming letters(a habit it seems
it'll go to the grave with!) This Books final words spell out...
SHE DID IT! SHE DID IT!
April 10, 2001:
reading this book delights me
all the interesting writers & poets
this book reminds me why i began sneaking into the library.
(an uninvited 7yr.old brown mexican in an all white parochial school)
this book gives me the high lonesomes for those good old days!
April 14, 2001:
this book is unavailable to me!
the city of San Leandro, Ca., has a "policy" of charging non-residents
$40.00 for its lending card! i cannot afford the fee.
my other lending cards are in good standing with San Francisco, Oakland,
Berkeley, Hayward, San Jose, the smaller communities of* Fremont,* Albany,* Castro
Valley,* Dublin,* Newark,* San Lorenzo,* Union City.*(* grouped as the Alameda County
Library system)
I do not abuse my priviledges, i do not eat food in
the library(well, maybe a little) i do not vandalize library materials or
talk loud.(never!)
i know why libraries exist in our society. Forty-two years since my
kindergarten teachers lined us up and walked us the one longish block
to the east Oakland, laurel district branch library, for story time mmmm...
so long ago; some memory is golden. this book. unavailable! mourns its
many lost opportunities.
April 16, 2001:
this book is not written.
this book's recited, it's alive in the memory.
this book happens on saturday nights. there is ritual greeeting, where polities
are exchanged, then all are given a few moments to claim their
spots, clear a sightline, quiet down inside, bes' as your able.
i'm told this really opens our vessels.
as the performances do unwind the formality of the occasion is offset
by the groups real time attention. "jes regular folks gettin down to
it, having fun, laughing, singing, rejoicing in the knowledge that WE ARE
the angels of our better nature.
April 24, 2001:
this book is borrowed er, on loan - i guess that's how
they say it these days.
i'm returning this book 12 hours before the stamped date.
truth is i should approach the return desk on my knees- the
posture of thanks- but thats so "old fashioned", so quaint.
this book A LESSON BEFORE DYING by ernest j. gaines is an
old type of story about little peoples lives but it never, not
once, portrays them as small. small!
this book gave me the blues, the sads, the sorrows...and i appreciate
them all! muy bien, muchas gracias. senor gaines.
April 28, 2001:
this book was written from wisdom looking back!
this book never did care care what satchel paige sayed.
this book is a conversation with a poet who makes astonishing leaps
of logic. she makes statements in one line and takes them back
in the next, somehow the pieces move foward. she makes me happy
as i read her. (linear thought phooey! i'll take BEAUTY!)
this book stays under/ it's written about game/ usually, the locale is
detroits inner city/ (whoreson,trick baby, etc.etc.)/ in these times so violent and
copycat/ i wish all the titles written by this dead author/ could
be collected and burned, baby, burned!
this book has so many kind and quirky characters it makes wish
i could live in baltimore!
April 29, 2001:
this book rides along thought lines and laughs at the crazy coincidences
in poets lives. what a read!
this book is surprised at the many hands, large and small, clumsy
and gentle, that come to posess its simple story
this book has had no visitors this month, sighs and thinks, "maybe
it's because april has all my central characters birthdays in it."
"they're selfish and mean-spirited enough to arrange this mis-shelving, oooh me!
to this book aprils' been a month of solitary confinement - its
been one long, lonely, trying month! MAYS SO NEAR HALLELUJAH!! may i
learn to know myself - entirely! AMEN.
this book takes its hat off indoors and says please and thank
you.
this book is a genuine diamond in a tattered cover yet, squirms
when it hears " you can't tell a book bye...."
April 30, 2001:
this book gets around.
this book sits quietly, dreaming of intercity bus rides filled with passengers
(SRO!) smelling of jasmine leaves...
this books writer describes the seven layers of heaven and further, points
out this knowledge was once secret, even forbidden! this book was written
for money! the cost of nirvana (nothingness) plumb eludes this author.
this book breathes - this book lives!
