May 17, 2011
* input from bookworms themselves
Oi! You pesky little mite, how dare you contemplate...!
Chomping through my case and books, as tasty as it maybe looks.
Prepare ye for insecticidey fate!
* ('you've no chance, mate!')
You see, my vast collection, is treasured by my mob.
Alphabetically tended, leather jackets stitched and mended.
Ready there to do their leafy job.
* ('our taste buds throb!')
Books older than my grampa, smell a little of him, too.
Tobacco prints on certain pages, lingers on war pics for ages.
Knows the glory, story through and through.
* ('we still must slew..')
Hardbacks full of nonsense, for my mum - the bored housewife.
Jackie Collins, effing , blinding, toyboys, tans and bareback riding.
So Mrs.Mop can lead a double life.
* ('how ghastly rife..')
My worshiped read - Vlad Nabokov, so intricate, offending.
Turns the subjects of taboo, so you accept, not misconstrue.
And come to yearn his sad, unhappy endings.
* (' ah, Russian rending..?')
Huge knowledge books on bottom shelves - for weight, than read at will.
They've never heard of 'world wide web', or know that Princess Di is dead.
But act as a support to keep things still.
* ('oh, what a thrill..')
Grandma loves her cook books, and reads hymns that turn to song.
Revelations in the Bible, Old Nick 'v' his biggest rival
Though she'll curse him when the dish she made goes wrong!
*('we'll sing along..')
There's even ones with pictures, bordering on pornographic.
Hoofs and wings on manic creatures, bodies wrangled, viscious features.
Told in words, so rich and calligraphic.
* ('man - that's tragic!')
One sits so high and mighty, bearer of the golden hue.
There is no match, no competition, for this rare, unique edition.
Welcomes each of us to Xanadu.
* ('we'll chew and chew..')
Every home should have one, bookcase filled with word cuisine.
Fiction, facts in combination, liter-a-lise the whole damn nation.
While inner monologue's setting the scene.
* ('we'll wipe it clean..!)
So, hop it, death watch beetle, never, ever lose the plot.
Grandeur is a cheap illusion, your own death a forgone conclusion.
The taste of printed paper's for MY lot!!
* (gulp!...that's what you got.......!)