Bookstore

It was a slow jeep to Katipunan
in search of the bookstore
that promised to be a treasure trove
of eurekas for a globalist future –
Foolishly, he was some Marco Polo
en route to China & exotica,
to take measure of a truth
that had escaped European roots.
But the textual myrrh & spices
were fashionably pricey.
They had to rifle through the pages
like some elfin thieves pilfering
a nugget or two
from a Solomonic mine:
He didn’t fall for the habit.
Camille & Sarah were texts enough
to mystify his mind
for a long, long time.