i saw as i went walking
st john beneath a tree
i asked him where the road did lead
he said, please don’t ask me
i did not press him further
and smiled as i walked past
and as i did a raindrop fell
and the sky turned overcast
i saw as i kept walking
a snake upon a rock
i had nothing else to do
and so i stopped to talk
i asked the snake his history
and how he came to be
he took his time to answer
and gazed quite balefully
who are to ask me that?
the serpent finally croaked
do you not then realize
that all narratives are smoke?
stores have beginnings
and stories have ends
and i will tell you a story
because you are my friend
the hero’s name was george
and the dragon’s name was zan
and george, he never bent his knee
to monster or to man
george lived with his ma and pa
in a hut beside a lake
where they fished for what they needed
but no more did they take
beyond the lake were fields of wheat
tended by peasants humble
who went about their business
but one day the ground did rumble
the dragon suddenly appeared
breathing smoke and fire
and the peasants, perceiving him
had no time to enquire
as to his motivations
or why he sought them out
of all creatures on the earth
they began to run and shout
the hamlet was deserted
as the peasants fled in haste
and the dragon with his roaring laugh
laid their homes to waste
smoke began to rise into
the sky above the lake
where george was peacefully dreaming
but he was suddenly awake
at this point i had had enough
and said excuse me to the snake
but i have heard it all before
and no more can i take
this story has been told before
in all its faded glory
in fact it is not one story
but the sum of all stories
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