The Mythmaker's Personal Attachment Poem by Raj Dronamraju

Attendant to the sloganeering of your serialized guru
Who gives out by the end of the season and then is repeated all through the summer
Suppose a boy struck out on his own at the beginning of summer
Bringing nothing in his knapsack he couldn't consume

Ghost scissors cut all that is foundation into strips
All he'd seen and read so far and all he would see and read in the future
Vex the public with facts instead of storylines
Television self-mutilations stamps them "bedazzled"
Can't help that you were close guarded by the sentries of ennui

The casual way that makes people like you and fall in love with what you say
The appearance of not doing something when in fact you are very busy
The boy started off with staking a claim to a part of the woodlands
Here he heard tales of the brave Kickapoo tribe and spun yarns about imaginary denizens

I don't feel that I'd been let down by myths
Or the lack of myths
But I was growing worried about the mythmaker's absence
And the acceptance of fables and inaccuracies and children's stories and made up nonsense as what really happened

An artless screamer is useful for decibels
The task is scaring off any challengers in the aforementioned woods
And if a puff of smoke takes the form of something big and monstrous
And the boy assumes a meeting with an angry Saint Augustine
Who lectures and scolds the road but the road is neutral
Remember there is no just war, just fairy tales, just the days' agony
That agony is other people and they are easily forgotten in the safety of the evening

What you feel is just thrashed about, mixed with other ingredients
And then you tell it and it gets passed on like the coin of the realm
Each successive person adding their own spin, adding more details
Until it no longer resembles what you told
It's a big blue ox or you lifting a Buick above your head with two hands
The boy comes out in time for autumn pop culture at his fingertips
Wearing a hat made from desiccated canards