--- D A V I D   G R A H A M

Nosing a book, my dog
never gets beyond the preface.
I guess one muzzle-nudge
releases all the news he needs.
A page or two fanned,

a whiff and snort
all he cares--whether
cookbook or epic, savory scents
of glue, dust mites, acids
of wood pulp and my hands.

It's true what they say--
words just arbitrary marks
peppering the page, the book
pure commodity, sweet or foul
as any slab of steak.

Wafting the common air,
how the text smells
depends wholly on the size
and shape of your nose.  And,
Lord yes, there is no author.