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.