red booth
review

Nested between rows 
of videotape and magazines,
is a gray couch that still sits, 

sunning itself in front of a glass 
wall as librarians drift past,
quiet angels moving stacks 

of dust from cushions, 
from desks, 
to shelves.

I would pretend to study,
an open backpack
 to one side,

a notebook on my left,
flipping pages of Hemingway, 
Camus,  The Inferno

while the trees shook outside,
splintering slips of sunlight
and tossing 

broken pecan shells
across the rusted hood
of a blue Chevrolet.
 
 
 

- Amanda Auchter