Sunday, April 27, 2014

Poetry Project, day 26

If I could jump into any story,
I'd 1. learn French, because
being able to jump into any
story also means other magic
things are now possible.
Then 2. acquire my finest
Musketeer attire, complete
with the biggest hat I can
find, sward of the appropriate
style and 3. grab the edges of
the pages, take a deep breath
and jump head first, right
in, really fast so I don't
chicken out.

And right away, even with
my cleaver disguise, my
literary crush would not
be fooled. Cyrano would
scoff at my verse, call me
names and ask me if I'd
come from the moon. But
maybe we could be friends,
when I'd tell him my secret,
(but I'd never tell him his,
although he might enjoy
being fictional) or partially
anyway. I'd tell him I was
a time traveler.

Then maybe I could help,
make him see that he's
the beautiful one, that his
words and deeds and
panache made him who
he was, made him worth
loving, made him my
favorite character of
all time, and that his nose was
nothing to be ashamed of
or to hide behind handkerchiefs,
beneath hats and balconies,
from behind a face of another
who he believed deserved them.

But.

That would completely change
his story. The story I loved
so much I dived right in,
real quick, before I could
chicken out. Would that be
worth it? Good thing I can't
actually dive into a story
in real life, only in my mind.
Much safer that way.
Avoids the impossible
question- to change the man
or save the story, when
saving the story would
ruin the man.

This is
why books are so safe.
Fiction is comfortable.

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