It is not your reading that he resents
You could be reading scripture, or cook books
Think of the problem a novel presents
His tool, made a toy: no soul, but great looks
All novels educate you, in a way
It must be pleasant and subtle, or you
With wounded pride, would throw the book away
But each one brings a small world into view
One he did not make, with its own logic
Where things can be that, in his world, cannot
You can imagine laws made by magic
Or bodies that never succumb to rot
He does not want you to see that thinking
Can make new worlds, or keep ours from stinking
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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