Everyday Hungers

For the temporary branch of the Multnomah County Central Library,1995-1997, a former state unemployment office.

The temporary library in winter
had the closeness of a submarine.

Grade school children, hungry writers,
office workers, artists, dozers--
we crowded through the doors as if embarking
on a peaceful trip under the river
while a great storm raged up above.

It was all of a piece: the smell of
winter clothes, the ceilings that once
umbrallaed the unemployed, the hiss of
fluorescent rain, and the baskets of
children’s books, flaps glued,
pages dotted with erasered light.

The halls of our vessel began to smell
like the halls of a public school at lunchtime.
After a while we stopped missing the
main library building’s marble stairs.

Because the mind has its everyday hungers,
and the soul needs nourishment, too,
we followed the comforting odors
issuing from the kitchen,
drew our seats up to the tables,
and opened the delicious books.

~Barbara LaMorticella