Wads of the Paper Man (Part 1)

they all look at him now
he looks to those that come to crowd
come to gather come to listen
all but for here the village is empty
they watch the now unrolled great scroll

he had been to town to order it from the city
over a mile of paper, industrial, delivered
he had watched with them while
the driver rolled it from his truck
it had taken him half a day to unroll it
three years to write it all down

he wanted to know it all
it started with the villagers stories from generations
old school books and childrens rhymes
picking and choosing what he needed
until his story had spread as well
travelers, tourists, rich yuppies,
curiosity seekers, glory seekers, dreamers
brought all their own literature and ideas
stories, myths and sciences
pop-culture and ancient culture
opinions and facts
content upon content upon-

until it was full
he had written very small

took the short walk back to the beginning
back to the emptying village where he started writing
they are all here
they all look at him now
he looks at his highway of the new
streched past the horizon and disappearing
it stirs slightly as the wind catches it here and there
rolling a small wave a few feet and settles again

he picks up the end of the strip
with his first splotches on it
and begins to fold the sides inward with the words facing out
creasing and folding until the long strip of parchment
has a deadly tip facing his face

he turns his face to the left towards the cold sunset
lets out a long sigh
and rams the needled edge into his right ear hard
as blood runs along his fingers and paper onto the ground
he crumples the next couple of feet with his fists
like a shaft to match his spear-head
and pushes the roped sheet even further in
spurring mad grunts
they look on...