Longevity of a Fiction

There is no end to history
whether written or not.
And no end to untold events
that would explain

So good story tellers
spell out probabilities
that could have happened
in those times
on those days.

Like Hamlet’s ghosts
and Macbeth’s weird sisters.
Crinkum spirits are always there
Twisting and turning to untidy logic
and keep the pages turning over.

Peering out from under
our coverlet of facts and figures
we find Quixote riding again
More pervasive than ever
This story telling device.

Willing to die for a just cause
Despite all odds
More glorious when outnumbered
and poorly equipped.

The unattainable loves of our lives
with their favors
tied to our standards, more alive
than life itself.

The proof lies in the fact
No one gets excited
if heroes plan each detail
and all appears totally logical.

If he told the Queen
he would take three ships.
Set out early morning
to avoid foreign competitors.
Sail south to the Canaries
find a Westerly
that would take him to India.
How boring!

The Queen would have said "Ho Hum"
"Come back when you plan
to sail over the edge"
And the King would say
"Yes, my dear. Ho Hum"

When the President tells us
We are landing a tourist on the moon.
He will go Thursday
Take a lunch and a Polaroid.
Circle once or twice before he lands,
Take pictures of his tracks
in the sand. Leave a flag
And be back in time for work on Monday.
We would change channels
and say "How boring. Ho Hum"

You see, Quixote would have
stayed on the launching pad
No chance for Adventures
or Nobility that day.
So why go?

L. Fullington

If you've any comments on this poem, L. Fullington would be pleased to hear from you.

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