Bonta's poem turns a library into something strange and unsettling. Instead of knowledge or refuge, its books are "tickets / for pain and trouble," as if reading were a purchase that admits you to suffering. The "acceptable answers" feel just as hollow, compared to land sold for nothing: they look valuable, but someone has given away something real for very little.
The third stanza seems to say that the speaker can't get a message across to people who are already committed to a shared view. Excommunication, a banishment, has to be explained to the choir, the very group that sings in agreement. The poem suggests a gap between a dissenting voice and the community around it.
The ending is quiet and uncertain. The speaker's own books are "books of dirt," and the speaker doesn't know what to bind in them. The mood is wary, humble and a little lost, as though the speaker distrusts easy answers but has no clear alternative to put in their place.