Them Dictionary Blues Poem by Jean Bernard Parr

How did I make it
through life
without the weight
of the dictionary?
was it sleight of hand,
a market boy's trick?

Soon it will be time
to meet Judge Dredd
the words I never checked
are going to come
and get me,
little zombies crawling
out of the heavy tome

Where do words belong?
Surely
in the market throng,
not flower pressed
in some museum
of a book where
they wouldn't get
a second look

the dictionary,
word-garage
all the rage
this latest model-
take her for a spin,
and just look
what we got
under the hood?

there's a danger
unless you're cute
at turning the page
you'll get caught
staring for hours
at a knot between
paper and wood