Joshua Jones
you could tape the deckled edges together
and play a rousing game of frisbee golf
you could remove the spines of a hundred or so
grinding them into a fine powder to fashion fireworks
you could interleave the pages of bilingual dictionaries
and marvel at your inability to separate them
you could razor out the center of a book you're sure
your spouse won't read and fill it with your mistress's hair
you could open a dozen on your desk underlining
pertinent passages to impress your guests or captors
you could remove and fold the pages of Your Best
Life Now into intricate monuments of self doubt
you could strap anthologies to your shoes to elevate
yourself above your father in family photos
you could stack them into a decorative pyramid
and bury yourself in one of its desperate mazes
you could dissolve them in vats of lye and strain
the liquid for any precipitous insight
you could eat a page with every meal
to improve the quality of your stools