What is the moral of this tale
we tell our children, if
the lazy and the stupid can
triumph? Steal the gold and win
the maiden's heart by cutting down
a magic beanstalk. To kill
a giant takes some nerve but little skill.
Jack should be Jill: One small detail
overlooked, unless his tights fall down.
And what does it matter if
his mother is his father, who would win
no beauty prizes? One thing we can
be certain of, is that this can
of worms is never opened. It should kill
all credibility when the girl is more his twin
than lover. Yet it is the tale
not told which is more fascinating, if
only it were written down.
When the final curtain is rung down,
is there anyone who can
resist making up their own fairy tale?
We wonder what it would be like to win
a fortune and true love. Could we kill
to realise our dreams? What if
there is a castle in the clouds and if
it is within our reach? Would it kill
us to climb up and escape the stale
normality of life? While we can
live like giants, we fear to fall down
from so far. Even when we win
all we desire, like Jack, do we deserve to win?
From the start, he owns a cow who can
dance and almost talk. Yet he would kill
himself, for he is ground down
by poverty. We know that if
he counts his blessings, it will be a different tale.
So we tell the tale the same each year - and if
we allow ourselves, we can accept that fools often win,
no matter if we do them down; for the spirit of pantomime is hard to kill.
