Anthropology

An oldie but a goodie from my college days.

It’s Saturday afternoon, not long after twelve.
I’m alone in my house, reading page after page
    of facts that are fading
    of faraway lands,
the blinds shutting out any participation
by the world living out there.

I’m learning truths, sterile and stiff,
    about tribes I will never meet,
    about monsters I will never fear
    about Gods published too many times to believe.

I could teach you to cook,
just like they did in the old days,
    how to farm
    how to dance
    how to court a widow or virgin
all without insulting her father.

The author of the text I am reading
guarantees this is the way
that these people truly did live.

Six previous editions
    were slightly too wrong,
    were innocently errored,
    were redeemed in the newest edition
And he’s almost ninety percent sure
of the accuracy of his new chapters
of customs
of practices
of “myths.”