[The assignment: write a poem in the style of William Carlos Williams.]
The New Book
I sit in my room
and open the book.
The spine creaks and groans
and the pages flit-flit-flit as I turn them.
I wonder
about the strange names and places
as I study the map in the front.
The smell
is so reassuring, and as I breathe it in
I think
this is going to be
a
good
book.
Whither Earthlings 