Oonah V Joslin

The Book Burning

The book would not leave my hand.
I viewed its grimy cover
yellowed leaves
cracked corners
eagerly fingered
pages turned at tip.

The faded front had not the
vivid colours of today. Blue
bleached by years,
indented title all but disappeared;
Braille for blind eyes.

I ran my thumb along its
spine to give it
one last thrill then
as instructed
relinquished it to flame.

Expunged from the
catalogue
for all time.
Deleted.

I wish now I could remember
the author’s name.

First published in The Shine Magazine but now revised, this poem is based on an experience of working in a library in the author’s student days.

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Oonah V Joslin

Snoll and Books

This is the I inside out;
the eye that sees the planet me,
isolate, without they, you or we,
eye catching the light of the word
light the creator gave to me.

Having no mouth, my hungry eye
feeds needs to find identity.

I might as well be roving Mars
silently these quiet volumes
look me in the eye, sympathise,
speak to me of beauty and scars.

Here am I bound; bound to my books.
I am Snoll. Tell me your story
friend.

© 2007 First published in Bewildwering Stories

Oonah V Joslin

A Little Light Reading
A piece for voices

It seems a shame to close this down. It’s certainly an impressive facility.

I am gratified that you like it so well but it’s a pretty old concept and it takes up a lot of space.

But you made space didn’t you?

In my mind, I mean.

Well, I think it’s wonderful. Look at this dark binding material here. Consider the gravity and yet the lightness of the content –

Photons – yes. Lovely.

— the sheer depth and breadth of reference contained within such beautiful surroundings is astounding.

And the stories…

Oh yes some of the stories are wonderful.

But you are all part of these stories. That’s why you’re here, I expect. Save your own skin…

People object to its closure.

Who gave you the right anyway?

People did. They elected Us to have power over them. They are so stupid!

But has it all been catalogued yet?

Thoroughly explored?

Saved for posterity?

I am Poserity. I have the index card here. I’ll just file it under Fiction.

All this is on one index card?

Yes.

Beings, Human Sum Total of Knowledge of Mankind – Us -- 1st ed. – Solar System: Milky Way: 21st C (or thereabouts in their petty chronology): Universal Rights Press Agency: USBN 01

What happens to all the material?

Pulp. I’ll recycle what I can but matter itself is passé. Actual universes may contain a lot of information but whirling gases and organic life are so messy and unsanitary. Only a miniscule fraction of all this is being used you know and ultimately one’s resources are finite.

They are?

Well one’s patience then. There are so many more interesting and innovative energies to work with and I don’t get any return on this you know – it just takes, like one of those black hole thingies.

Isn’t it supposed to be a service?

And services don’t ‘make’ do they?

I see your logic but there’s usually a collection and now I’m collecting.

Won’t you miss the people?

Won’t you even miss us?

No room for sentiment. As long as I’m at the top, all’s right with the…

What if we declare you to be no longer there?

Un-invent you?

Vote you out?

You can’t do that!

All in favour?

AYE!

Thus the committee of Gods of Knowledge, Jar’Edo Wans, Quetzalcoatl, Brighid, Minerva, Hermes, Wenchang Wang, Thoth, Saraswati, Omoikane, Enki, Odin and Anulap, overcame Bureaucracy and saved us all.