El Biblioteca Americano
By Christopher Bradley
3/7/01 5:43:20 PM

To complain in a library
Shaped like a sick albatross
Almost within earshot of two guards
Is like a bittersweet nectarine of wisdom.

There are many volumes and indices here
And individual books by the gross
There are full shelves
But no people browsing them.

The plants are still alive
But the florescent lights are blinking out
Like pinball tilt signs
In lightning white jitters.

It will be good not to come here
Too often
The place doesn't offer the
modernity of cybernews.

And the bookstore has a more brilliant sheen
And coffee with my favorite hosts
And an occasional aquaintance drops by
All this for a mere $2.35.

But who knows?
Maybe there is something to save this wretched place for
Maybe they'll one day line it with PC's
And make true access for those of

They who can not afford.

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