A Story of a Minotaur, or “What a Lot of Bull.”

And this is how the story begins, with a letter, freshly written on rumpled lined paper, barely brushed free of sleep and hidden dreams.

Dear brother,

I walked down the maze,
and saw the Minotaur
eating human flesh.

His keepers wrapped a rope
around my delicate neck.

The stocks were for me
and my whole family.

And all that was left
of old Mr Plod,
was a cap
floating
in a cauldron of hot cat.

The Minotaur’s trainer
began the Appetizing Game,
Showing the wild monster
some blood
without screams.

(He did not wish
to put the beast off)

The stabbings began
and I was stretched on a rack;
The Minotaur slept
after a complex mating ritual.

What a lot of Bull.

The lid lifted on the maze.
The sun dried up the blood.
The mad Minotaur
screamed in pain
as the light shone bright
on all his mutated ugliness.

And his lovers
were shot, by a passing helicopter
of Armed Defenders.

They discovered the Magician
still clutching trembling wand,
curled up in the corner
repeating his own name.
They chopped off his fame.

Dear brother,
I saw
the mad Minotaur
as they turned him into mincemeat
and dug him into the garden.

Where now I sit.
Enjoy the sweet scent of blossoming Spring.
Dear brother,
It was a long time ago,
and I sincerely want you to know,

the madness of the maze
has been clearly exposed.

Your sister,
in truth.

===== Also on video courtesy of YouTube ====

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