Place for Pages
You'd browse, then buy a bargain paperback.
Now CLOSED, front window smashed to spider web of crack,
Used bookstore morphs into graffiti canvass
For those adjacent to the pricey campus.
I'm thrilled a soup-and-sandwich shop arrives
There soon, won't mirror nearby joints and dives.
I miss the books, though, and "Beret," the tabby
Who strolled the aisles. What's to be's to be.
What better salad, though, than bookstore's discount rack?