Both of my Gideon’s Bibles are under my roommate's bed
On top of out-of-season clothes and
Among Joe Joe's cookies and
Annie's Macaroni
And Pops cereal
Where they have fallen.
(I wonder if she has seen them?)
They belong more to Joe and Joe and Annie and Pop--
And Gideon, of course--
Than they do to me.
Her Bible is probably on her desk
In its own place
Her name on the front.
Mine make more sense where they are--
Without anyone's name on the front and
Among the colorful names that make
Someone else
Full.