My son finds amusing

My son finds amusing
My ambitions to publish
My poetry.

He tells me that
I shouldn’t worry about
My books after I will
Move to a nursing home;
That any university library
Will be happy to take them
As soon as I offer them
The copyright of all my
Written stuff for free.
(He’s an IP lawyer
And he thinks it funny.)

My revenge will come
When I will be published
One day and a book
Of my poems will have
An acknowledgements page
That will quote this:

“As for giving thanks to,
I have nobody.”

Books' Fate

I don’t know what will happen
To my books when I will have to move
To a nursing home. Who would want
Volumes of Polish and Russian classics
I bought over the years to recreate
What I remember of the bookshelves
Of our Warsaw apartment? Odd to
Think of them rotting in a landfill
Somewhere, providing food and
Perhaps some variety in otherwise
Boring life of the ever helpful microbes.
What is this? They would raise their eyebrows
(Though they have no such thing);
Tolstoy, I think we have tasted him
Once sixty generations back;
But this? Slowacki; I don't think
We have ever had the pleasure
Of meeting this prolific fellow;
Call all the cousins, they won't want to miss it.