Closing Borders

Listen to the death knell
Of the local book purveyor.
To see this coming, one need not
Have heard from a soothsayer.

The writing wasn’t in the books,
But it was on the wall;
Once electronics staked its claim,
Bound books were bound to fall.

Yet when I heard of the demise
Of Borders in Manhattan,
I felt like quoting, “Et tu, Brute?”
(“You screwed us,” but in Latin.)

For everyone shops Borders
For their books, cards and CD’s,
Calendars and gifty things –
All guaranteed to please.

Their coupons promised bargains,
Making me a loyal buyer.
Enough of us exist
To sing their praises in a choir!

But still, alas, their doors will close,
Those coupons flown to heaven;
Another victim of the times
To file Chapter 11.

Ah, Borders, I will miss you so.
Your closing’s such a loss.
I’ll really have to go abroad
For Borders I can cross!