The following “prose poem” is from my book in progress
entitled “Mornings With Borges” which will be published by Copper Canyon Press
in the Fall of 2010 if we are still holding our own on this mad planet. Like most
of the poems in the book this is about being lost in multiple and oddly
productive ways.
S.K.
Helsinki, Labyrinth, 1982
I got lost in the library last night and like most blind
people I touched walls and the spines of books.
“Hey Borges,” I said to myself, “Where do I find the entrance to Uqbar?”
(When I was a kid I used to climb in secret on the roof and sleep up there.)
So lost as I was, I pulled a book from a shelf and held it like a royal pillow.
I saw I was full of utility
Like a designer of fountains
Who does his best work in winter.
Planet of the Blind 
How like a lovely dream. Of all places to be lost (or “having an adventure,” as my daughter and I prefer to call it), I can think of no place more comforting, inviting and mysterious than a library, touching walls and the spines of books.
Thank you for the lovely poem, Steve. I’m looking forward to your next book of poems — and I believe we will be still holding our own in 2010, even if we have to work harder at it.
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