This is Why I Read

This is why I read—
so that the words
will unlock my heart
or at the least
rattle my ribcage.

This is why I read—

by way of setting off
a series of small detonations
to summon the avalanche
to crack the dam
to trigger the earthquake.

This is why I read.

And remember that book, 
the one you slid
across the café table
with a sly smile
as if you were slipping me
a packet of 
plastic explosives?

I held it on the train.
And the other passengers, 
sensing a tension in the air, 
seemed so much more alive
and radiant
as we sped towards
an unknown destination.

This is why I read.