Working through the 227 Rules For Monks.
Who knew the simple life could be so complex.
Undercover
I wanted to throw
the math book across the room
the brown paper didn’t cooperate
as I folded it over the cover
one side was too big to fold
the other too small to cover
I tried to slide the book
so everything was even
so it would be neat tidy
the real cover protected
I wanted it to look as perfect
as the book my mother had done in minutes
I lacked her eye hand coordination
perfected by years of knitting
of dress making
I couldn’t even colour between the lines
now here I was
with a pair of scissors
a roll of heavy brown kraft paper
attempting to make covers
for my school books
as requested by the school
if the books weren’t kept tidy enough
we would have to pay for them
I wasn’t even supposed to write on the books
not even to underline
couldn’t dog ear the pages
the book refused to fit
I managed to get it wrapped
taped the corner to keep it in place
I didn’t care that it was bunched up
that there was a crease
on the back cover
I tried to slide myself
through grade school
high school
so everything was even
so I would be neat tidy
bland as brown kraft paper book cover
a cover that never quite protected
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