Devouring Myth

November 24, 2011 § 1 Comment

Written in April 2008

I was raised on fiction.
Breathing in stories,
exhaling dreams,
threads of meaning woven into fantasy–
sixteen books from the library at once
one week, two weeks, done
back for another dose

my hunger insatiable.
When the pages fluttered down
devoured in a rush, leaving the cupboard
not bare, but damn close
I farmed my dreams for crops of my own devising,
home-grown tales
planted with the seeds of my consumption–

I grew fat on words.

Now, though, I’ve lost the time
for such rich fare, gotten more
fiber in my diet:
academia, textbooks,
flashes of research.
Meaty stuff, but poorly flavored, with
only rare sprinklings of spice–
I’m lucky for a novel a month, now.

What goes in comes out…
my pen manufactures articles and essays
long lines of technicalities.
I’ve poor soil now for stories
yet my tongue itches for the sweetness and salt
of fiction.

Tagged: ,

§ One Response to Devouring Myth

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading Devouring Myth at Of Horn and Ivory.


%d bloggers like this: