Xylotheque

Look it up: each piece of work
In its rightful place, each bookcase
Chockablock with codexes
Of every type, lest we forget
To know of what we speak.
 
All well and good to hew
To the spirit of the letter, but here
Let the bookworm behold each opus
In its element, the better to grasp
The true grain of the thing.
 
Pick one out: that’s the heft
A wordsmith covets, the stuff
Blockbusters are made of, a text
That’s a handbook on itself
Right here at your fingertips.
 
Lest we forget: each book a block
Unlike the next, a complete set
To leaf through when all but
The artifact is lost, each work
The last word on its subject.
 
Or better yet, each book a box
For taking stock, the contents
Spelled out with a strip of bark
Along the spine, a work of art
Made out of what it’s all about.