Confessions of a bookworm

CONFESSIONS OF A BOOKWORM

Those empty shelves. High time you stacked them,
                               top to bottom,

with the childhood fictions that print the hidden truth
                              about you closer

than your shadow. Put them on display. They�ve waited
                              too many years,

perfect bound in crates and boxes for a removal van
                             that never comes.

I�m all eyes, invisible girl. I�ll let you read my forthcoming
                            Booker prize flop

for one peek at the uncut mysteries of Nancy Drew,
                            and your complete

Famous Five collection, with the cine-film of you camped
                            on the desert

island at the foot of your garden, imaginary dog in tow,
                           while crooks knocked

Uncle Quentin�s block off. You solved the mystery on
                           your space hopper,

flattening guilty rose bushes, extracting thorns with pliers
                           until they confessed.

So start loading. Let�s see how much weight the
                           shelves can take.