When They Stole The First Song

When the Trickster
(what trickster, which trickster?
Coyote, Anansi, the Harlequin,
Lady Eris?)

who knows?
who cares?

When the Trickster stole the first song,
the Gods were wroth.

They spun fire
(ANOTHER stolen thing!)
and whipped smoke
and generated the great waves
which lifted Atlantis to the stars

(you thought Atlantis sank?
That’s exactly what They want you to think.)

And they yelled and bellowed and raced down the great Mountain into the lands of Mortals,

howling,
keening,
swearing,

past
(but not into)
the villages and towns,

through the caves of glyph and silhouette,
past the Valley of Shadow
(well: near enough;
nobody really knows where
the Valley of Shadow is)

until they collapsed,
laughing,

at the feet of the thief,
who herself laughed,

plied them with wine,

and sang with them;

for all songs are stolen,
and it is the reshaper,
the word-wrestler,
the listener,
the lover and the critic
which give shape to Song,

and you can’t really steal
what no-one can truly grasp,

so pass the jug,

and let the voices cascade.

Jeff Mach Written by:

Jeff Mach is an author, playwright, event creator, and certified Villain. He's currently working on the Great Catskills Halloween Vendor Market & Spectacle. You can always pick up his bestselling first novel, "There and NEVER, EVER BACK AGAIN", or "I HATE Your Prophecy"—or, indeed, his increasingly large selection of other peculiar books. If you'd like to talk more to Jeff, or if you're simply a Monstrous Creature yourself, stop by @darklordjournal on Twitter, or The Dark Lord Journal on Facebook.