Drab is the day in the uptown branch of the

Middletown Public Library.

The bright cover colors for National Library Week

Have been filed away under “Colors for National Library Week.”

Miss Prunewhip at the main desk is looking more and more

Like the 1928 edition of the Periodical Guide.

Yet it is outside the uptown branch that the

inside has died.

It is outside where they have killed Miss Prunewhip,

outside on the sidewalk.

Inside all is in order, magazines, books, periodicals

all in order

(And if you put one out of order Miss Prunewhip will

put on her glasses and whip you,

Orally of course, whip you, trip you, unzip you, and

leave you bleeding in front of the circulation desk,

And morally of course,

Because Miss Prunewhip herself is certainly in order,

and strong as a horse).

But outside on the sidewalk, under the trees, by the curb

All is not in order, not at all, not Prunewhip’s order.

The leaves are not in order, and not on file; nor the faces,

No, the faces, in disorder, and the leaves, in disorder,

Swirl brazenly in the air, uncarded, unclassified.

It is outside Miss Prunewhip that the inside has died.