Spools.(Poem)

 
SPOOLS 
 
   Inside everyone's mind, an endless 
   spool's played continually, a saga 
   in which the distinguished lead character 
   is our self. Revolving like a windlass, 
   or like a loop of video tape, 
   the ongoing plot has a shape 
 
   which is partly hidden from us, and yet 
   we feel it might be within our control. 
   Nobody outside the self knows all 
   about it, but whenever we let 
   others play a part, we expect 
   them to act in a way which will reflect 
 
   the roles we have cast, and we are angry 
   when they utter dialogue 
   which is not in our script. As a dog 
   will conform because it is hungry, 
   we can train our children into giving 
   responses which fit, yet they are living 
 
   out stories of their own, in which our parts 
   decrease in scale with each new season. 
   It may seem there is no reason 
   for another ...