Whatever the narrator
Finds perplexing is the true
Subject of any story,
Sometimes stated, sometimes not—
Milton’s Satan, Shiji’s truth,
Or Barbie’s patriarchy—
Sometimes buried so deeply,
Especially in folktales,
It’s more of an atmosphere
Of something hard to fathom,
The bizarre consequences
For inconsequential lives,
So typical of the world.
It’s there, though. It’s always there.
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