I.

It doesn't matter where the books belong,
I always find them in another place.
The customers believe our order wrong—
it doesn't matter where the books belong:
on display or in a specific case;
regardless, they vanish without a trace.
It doesn't matter where the books belong,
I always find them in another place.

II.

How hard is it to just put back a book,
to find that same gap where it once had dwelled?
Why do you hide it in some secret nook?
How hard is it to just put back a book?
Perhaps the book, from your sweaty palms, swelled;
you forgot how the author's name was spelled—
how hard is it to just put back a book,
to find that same gap where it once had dwelled?

III.

Please don't leave a mess on the floor or chair;
just give the books to me to put away.
It makes me want to scream and pull my hair
when you leave a mess on the floor or chair—
while some may praise your impressive array,
it does not, however, my work allay.
So don't leave a mess on the floor or chair;
just give the books to me to put away.

IV.

When I tell you that the store is closing,
why do you linger 'til the very end?
It's nighttime and I'd rather be dozing
when I tell you that the store is closing;
but instead I must wait for you to wend
your way to the door, chatting with your friend—
when I tell you that the store is closing,
why do you linger 'til the very end?

TMK 12apr2010