Don't follow the hoofmarks

 Even the impossible became possible
we spend our lives giving ourselves over
Trying to adapt to someone elses measures
Someone elses philosophy

We quote their rubbish and flatter them colorful words
Never intending to live like they did
 Never really understanding who they were
Then blabbing like we understood them

Those that created an idea
sitting in academia waiting to be brought up in a classroom
the few real fans obsessed with their biographies
Learning their formulas and theories

Deepening the shape of their hoofmarks
in history's good mud
And thinking that shape and depth so sacred
Never examining their own weird hooves

Therefore this is not my barbecue
This is not my foster family
I am not included at the feast
I do not share the same allergies

I take my own feather ink
and curl it into my hand
Design another reality
One unlike any of yours

One that can withstand your limited understanding
and derision
Not because it's bigger or better than your cliche
But because it exists in the intangible energy

of my literary mojo
This has no known limits
Maybe inside you it is the same