The used bookstore is better than shoreline
For the seashore gets driftwood and kelp
The bookstore gets a teacher's old books
Someday I may read the waves like poems
And find in seagulls the wisdom of sages
But until now I needed words to see.
Old Moe chewing a cigar bought and sold
The collected wisdom of humanity
For a book that might give a young man hope, four-fifty
For a poet's sustenance, six seventy-five
For an artist's inspiration, eighteen ninety-five
We wander on the beach for what we lacked,
And without a shore what would we know of the sea?