Library of Unfinished Poems: Table of Contents
by Jay Bookworm Eilers

Each phrase is a rough draft, an unanswered and unanswerable question
Chafing at my consciousness

One and then another is laid on the table –
Rising thoughts as emotions ebb and flow
What is the measured level of content?
As if the words were statistics
Of failure and success?
Of loneliness and connection?

Each shelf is a crack in my heart upon which books are stacked
In an attempt to plug up the awkwardness of unsatisfactory experiences
Seeping through to flood my mind

Each book is filled with questions appropriate to the title
Words shift around like a kaleidoscope in my mind, forming and dissolving

I glimpse the following title
Abandonment Rate: Several Seasons in Call Center Hell
Measurement of too many dreams deferred
How can it be truly calculated and not consumed
In the cost benefits analysis of life?

Next, I see Masochistic Manifesto of Mystical Misfits
The cacophony of cowardice and the conflictedness of
Cognitive dissonance in censorious celebration
How do you measure true freedom of being
Balanced by a searing solitude?
We are at once together and also alone.

Then, I see Alluring Alliteration: Matching Words in a Mismatched World
Am I a single word in pairs, feeling anonymous and aware?
Beleaguered and boyish? Confounded and creative?
Am I two parts of the same whole, endlessly evolving into a revolutionary reality?

Finally, I see a beautiful book, holding within it many sighs, tears and smiles
Inside it, the dedication reads: “To My Most Favored Woman, thank you for
Teaching me to have the courage to ask the right questions and live into the answers.”

I pile these books into my mental shopping cart, knowing their price can never be calculated nor paid.

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