Westwind

The Best Stuff Ever Written

AJ Urquidi

Success! is! flammable!

The malicious chapters have yet

To be filled in this Book of Slurs

Which is best writ by the best fit

Nameless to say

You

 

And the Book of Reflexivity

Finds itself nestled in rows

And rows and rows of shelves

In the library of the Peach Orchard

Who harvests who

Do you grasp the fruit

Or do words grasp you

 

When we last visited our lovely host,

He was planted atop the telephone pole

In the lifeless islands

Scribbling down notes in the Book of Fumigation

When he slipped and tumbled from above

Who was there to catch him

Do you think it was an intruder

Or maybe a lifeless pest who was there all along

Too self-engaged to present herself.

 

The third edition of the Book of Amoré

Was just published from your basement.

Maybe you got it right this time

Maybe you learned to write this time

Anyway, the rest of us won’t buy it

Cackling or not cackling

The About the Author photo

Drives the eyeless to tears

And the tasteless to kill their firstborns

Who made you the expert

 

My library is filled with all the lone copies

Of the Book of Pomp

Frogs hop about the monsoon floor

The librarian! is! a whore!

With any luck, the sprinkler system is broken

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