Overdue Fines for the Person I Was

Found it under a pile of dead batteries and menus,

a blue plastic rectangle with a peeling barcode.

The signature on the back is mine, I guess,

but the loops are too hopeful, the ink too bold.

There’s a square of sticky residue on the corner

where a 'lost and found' sticker used to live.

I remember when I thought I’d read everything,

when I thought I had so much attention to give.

Now it’s expired. A key to a house I moved out of

seven years ago. I hold it like a fossil,

embarrassed by that person who actually believed

that learning things would make the world more docile.