library
at the end of the sixties
i lived in a library
took out the tintin books
i had a card
i lived in the books
when the library was closed
they had to return me
or they’d get a fine
it was bright, comfy shelves
and some tables and chairs
i could drown in the breath of
the ghosts of dead trees
i wanted a label
to stick on my forehead
then i could live there
sleep in the ghostforest
right through the seventies
people could take me out
that would be nice
but they’d have to return me
or they’d get a fine
Originally from North Wales, Roddy Williams lives and works in London. His poetry has appeared in Magma, The North, The Frogmore Papers, The Rialto, Envoi and most recently in the Great Weather for Media anthology The Other Side of Violet. blog: roddywilliamsblog.wordpress.