xx. Books (The Schmoth)

The people in the books you read
are all so much better than me.
There are smart science guys
and spies with keen dark eyes;
handsome jocks and
sports stars strong as oxen;
romantic Cassanova’s;
insatiable lovers;
wealthy royal heirs;
mysterious neighbours from upstairs;
actors who are actually worth their hype
and soft sensitive types.
So every time you put your glasses on
I worry that come morning, you’ll be gone;
gone to find the men that haunt the pages,
teasing women through the ages,
taunting guys like me
who are trapped in this reality.
I’d burn them all to ash
or trade them in for cash –
I’d throw every last one out
but still I doubt
that you’d forget
about the men you’d met
and dreamt of having for yourself
inside the books upon your shelf.