Liperature
written by: Bruce Morton
So, this then is the story of stories.
Have no worries. I am only going
To tell it once. All stories are
Once-upon-a-time even
If it not evident. Such is the nature
Of stories. They are tales chased
By themselves, repeated
Repeatedly, told and retold
So that they get old, then
Renewed with each new nuance,
Something added or forgot.
It is oral rendition becoming
Oral tradition. Be it at table or bar,
In the living room we each inhabit,
After the initial reflex of eye-roll or
The oh-no-not-again thought
Silently swallowed, somehow
The self-same story becomes
Deja-vu-new. It is then we remember
We forget familiarity breeds attempt
To cushion the couch of experience.
These stories we tell and retell have
Been told and retold so have hold.
So it is we nod heads and smile, so
We laugh at punch lines telegraphed,
Tapped out on keys rubbed blank
From having been heard and reheard.
We dutifully listen as if to a script
For which all previous tellings told
And hearings heard have been
A rehearsal staged so that our lives
Play out with kith and kin telling
And listening to this then and that when.
Tellings are told, so the old is again new.
Say it. Tell it. Hear it. Say it. Tell it.
Laugh at it and at ourselves, this is us,
Our ritual of repetition and renewal.
There it ends. Here it begins.
- Liperature - December 7, 2024
