Carnegie Library, circa 1903

He wanted a library with Doric pillars,
rotundas, pediments, and porticos,
he wanted a library that looked similar

to a French chateau or Renaissance palazzo
with arches, sweeping staircases, and marble floors.
As he left the pavement, he wanted to know

his journey toward truth was through these doors:
a poorly-lit foyer he felt his way through,
a long climb up stairs to a reading room tour,

the clerestory window’s dazzling light imbued
him with the hope he'd be surrounded by Freedom,
Progress, Opportunity, a Modern World View.

A diorama of King Tut’s tomb,
the Winged Victory in plaster-cast copy,
and Venus de Milo stood around the room,

busts of Homer, Shakespeare, Dante,
Goethe, Emerson, and Tennyson peered down
from tall, oak bookcases holding the canon,

gilt-edged classics, wisdom leather-bound—
all warned him with whispers to abandon
such bourgeois claptrap and get out of town.