The giants piled up books on the southern shore.
It was more novels than they had ever stacked before.
The elves and gnomes were scared and yelled “no more!”
They were afraid the stack might fall on their grocery store.
Why was that okay? Asked the giant’s wife, Lamour.
We thought it would be great, said her husband Gore.
It’s fun to stack books, it’s more fun than rock stacking, not a bore.
You are terrorizing the tiny fey, said the compassionate Lamour.
So, the giant and his friends went back to the southern shore.
They unstacked the books and apologized forever more.
That’s okay said the mayor of the seaside town Latimore.
We know you did not mean to scare us forevermore.
Oh well, I suppose it’s ok.
At least they lost their reason to put me away.
The further I travel, the more I can remember the laughter.
And the more I question whether it was real and whether it will resurface after-
All these years, there still exists this curse.
They could show up at my door, and I will be forced to fake remorse.
Some nights I wonder if I will be once again coerced-
To make the craziest decision- to lock myself up with the curse.
The less I can function- the more the horizon-
Becomes a hopeless swirl, that I cry my tears in.
My dazzling heart will soon be cracked.
And I shall allow the pain in as my mind becomes unstacked.
Sh! They are building the teacup tower tonight.
I shivered with excitement, understanding what this might mean.
Like Jack who climbed the beanstalk, I intended to travel to Saturn
Past the giants, the clouds, the dark holes.
I was too thrilled to do anything but watch.
My entire village was eager to give a hand.
I wanted to do whatever I could.
They kept shouting orders, which I followed gladly.
Hoping I would get my turn to travel to the stars.
Working together as one, we built into the night.
Unfortunately, farmer's wife unstacked them again.
She does this every morning, but we elves are not quitters.
We giraffes took over the elementary school on Monday.
The children cheered when we declared it a fun day.
Yes, they screamed, laughed and high-fived in a weird way.
They stacked the chairs and desks and proceeded to play.
S.W.A.T. came by but they were dispatched to a bay.
“They will come out when they are hungry,” said Old Miss May.
We anxiously waited them out ‘til the break of the next day.
When we unstacked the chairs and the kids promptly ran away.
They were hungry for French toast, waffles, and curds of whey.
We Giraffes were irritated because it was only Tuesday.
We wanted to hold them longer but they did not give us the okay.
Human kids are eaters, we decided as they ran home that day.
There is too much ancestry coursing my soul
to do me any real good
To live in a cave on a deserted island
my destiny best understood
Success once achieved is cast far aside
its burden to hamper my play
Genealogy stalks and preys as it looms
to darken those brightest of days
Each block lay unstacked as I run off again
my freedom left calling within
My soul unattached to the gifts I step over
—all fame left adrift in the wind
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2018)
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