There was no woman, I think, named Jane
Cornman
Living in 1946 at my mother’s address
On Bristol Place. Still, she had a library card
From Brooklyn College (probably expired now).
My mother, no Cornman, had cousins of
that large clan
Even now, years after she died, she
occasionally
Springs a new one on me (Lemports too,
and Perlows)
But surely I’d have heard of one who
shared her house
(As did her cousin Sy when he went to
the school
And my grandfather gave him a dime
every day).
Jane Cornman signed her card in my
mother’s handwriting
Agreeing to obey the rules of the
College library,
She would not run, chew gum or deface books
And would return them on or before the
day they were due.
My mother (dead for eight years now) has surely
Reconnnected with Jane Cornman (in the
afterworld
No one cares if you’re fictional. This
will be
A very great solace to me after I’ve
died).
Brooklyn College librarians hear the noises made
By two ghosts, running through the
stacks.
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